


Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies

by imnotoverlyobsessive



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Accidental breeding kink, Also let’s be honest, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breeding Kink, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, Consent is Sexy, Eventual Smut, Excessive use of the word fuck, F/M, I Am Sorry, Incest, It just kinda happened, Mutual Pining, No seriously a LOT of smut, Possessive Dipper Pines, Romantic Soulmates, Safe Sane and Consensual, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but Mabel likes it so it’s okay, definitely incest, if my fic is gonna have smut then it's gonna be graphic, more sin than a glory hole in a confession box, probably also angst, so yeah there’s that, there is definitely some, up in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotoverlyobsessive/pseuds/imnotoverlyobsessive
Summary: Mabel and Dipper are born with the same soulmark. Their parents keep them separated for the most part, fully intent on doing so for the rest of their lives.Until they can't anymore.Whoops.aka the pinecest soulmate AU no one asked for.
Relationships: Dipper Pines/Mabel Pines
Comments: 131
Kudos: 194





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> whaaaaat you mean imnotoverlyobsessive ships this ship that makes so many people squick? Yes. Yes I fucking do. Don’t worry, those of you that know TBOAS; I’ve already got chapter 23 typed up. I just need my beta to read it for me, which should be soon. Anyway. This fic includes the most incesty of incests, so if you guys aren’t up for that, which I totally understand, then ya might wanna skip out on this one. I dunno how long it’ll be. Guess we’ll find out. I have a vague outline of the plot, but nothing super detailed yet. If this is my first work that you’ve read, then, uh. Hi, you can talk to me on tumblr if you want, same username as here, or on discord, it’s imnotoverlyobsessive#0843. I update slowly, but I won’t abandon it. If it’s been awhile since I’ve updated and you’re anxious, feel free to bug me, that’s totally fine. If you see plotholes, I welcome feedback, but please be nice because I’m a very sensitive person and I will definitely start crying if you’re mean to me.
> 
> So a little bit about the fic itself. I guess I have a thing for soulmate AUs? Idk. Whatever, this one is different from my other soulmate AU for Devils’ Line, and a lot of that has to do with the huge taboo we’re dealing with here. So in this universe, everyone has a soulmark that appears as soon as you touch your soulmate. It's exactly the same as theirs. Soulmarks appear regardless of age, but once you hit seventeen, you start to feel an insanely strong attraction to your soulmate whether you've touched them already or not. When you do actually touch them, you get a very very strong urge to, well. Bone. It's also very draining to be away from them for too long, so most soulmates who find each other move in with each other right away, just so it's easier on them. There are no laws against incest-y soulmates, but it is still strictly taboo. Most people think that incestuous soulmates should just live separately and not be around each other at all. It’s not gonna be the most angsty fic on the face of the earth, but there is definitely gonna be some in there. And probably a healthy amount of sexy stuff because, despite being in a happy relationship, I am also a huge pervert and like to see my ships do the do so that’s gonna happen. Buckle up. And now, without further ado, welcome to the prologue of Looks like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies.

Prologue   
_“No one is ever ready to be a parent. We’re all just varying degrees of not ready.”- my Mom_

* * *

August 30th, 1999, 10:42pm

“…and as we get closer and to the new millennium, more and more people are coming forward with opinions on the new studies indicating that 17% of mated couples are actually siblings, with an astonishing 73% majority being twins. We have one of the researchers here who has her own opinions about the issue, Dr. Eleanor Robinson. Thanks so much for joining us this evening, Dr. Robinson,” said the news reporter on the television.

Mildly interested, Mr. Will Pines took a sip of his can of Pitt soda as a blonde woman in a lab coat came on screen.

“No problem, Robert, happy to be here,” said the doctor.

“So Dr. Robinson, are these statistics true?” asked the reporter.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, absolutely. I participated in the research myself, and we made some very interesting discoveries.”

“Really?” The reporter leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What kind of findings are you at liberty to share with us?”

“Well,” the doctor continued. “We’ve found that biological sex doesn’t seem to have much of an impact on the soulmarks showing up. The rules seem to be the same as they are with anybody else- except the twins we’ve studied, their marks have been there since birth.”

“So they never have that “ahah!” moment the rest of us experience when we first touch our soulmate?” Robert wondered.

The doctor twisted her lips slightly. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. They get the same sort of… electricity when touching their soulmate prior to accepting the bond, and they certainly feel drawn to them both romantically and sexually, but that doesn’t happen until later in life.”

“Oh, so they don’t experience it as children, then?”

“No,” Dr. Robinson shook her head. “As with all children who find their soulmate early in life, while touching them does cause the mark to show up, it does not elicit any biological reactions until both parties are at least seventeen.”

“Interesting,” the reporter said with a nod. “And is it true that you support attempts to eliminate the social backlash that these couples experience?” 

“Oh, absolutely, absolutely,” Dr. Robinson nodded. “Soulmarked couples are in no way at fault for their feelings for one another, and should not be criticized or judged for acting on those feelings. It’s completely biological.”

“What about the risks of inbreeding? Is that a concern?” Wondered Robert.

The doctor shook her head. “Not really, no. Soulmarked couples are at a much lower risk of genetic birth defects, because they are chosen partially because of their abilities to produce the healthiest children each individual is able to produce. So you see the statistics of soulmarked couples who aren’t related compared to couples that are not soulmarked, and the percentage of birth defects in the former is so much lower than the latter that I’d have difficulty believing it had I not done the research myself.”

So, wait,” the reporter interrupted. “There’s no risks at all?” 

“Well of course there are risks, there are always risks when having a child,” reasoned Dr. Robinson. However, with soulmarked couples, the risks are _vastly_ lower than with non-soulmarked couples. The pregnancies are much safer, the births are much safer, and the children themselves are much healthier. According to the research we’ve done, that doesn’t change in the slightest when factoring in the biological relationship, if any, of the couple.”

“Fascinating, just fascinating. Do you have any personal recommendations for parents who have soulmarked children?”

“You mean children who are soulmates with their siblings?” The reporter nodded, and Dr. Robinson tilted her head slightly in thought. “Well,” she began. “I’d recommend that those parents don’t panic or try to separate their children from each other. Even at a young age, after you’ve already had your soulmark appear, not having your soulmate nearby at all can lead to difficulty concentrating and depression. This can, of course, be counteracted with medication, but that’s wholly unnecessary if you allow the children to spend adequate time together in a way that’s age-appropriate and healthy. Supervise them, of course, but the reason most people move in with their soulmate as soon as they find out they share a soulmark is because it’s incredibly draining to be apart. As a doctor, I cannot, in good conscience, recommend attempting to have them live separately if it can be avoided.”  
  


Mr. Pines snorted. Obviously such a thing could never happen. Not to anyone he knew, anyway. 

At that moment, Mrs. Caroline Pines staggered into the room, one hand clutching the wall and the other clutching her very large belly.

“Will!” She cried out, wincing. He whipped his head around, startled. “It’s time,” she told him in a shaky voice.

In their haste to get to the hospital, he barely managed to turn off the television.

* * *

Six and a half hours later, Mrs. Pines had given birth to two children, a boy and a girl. She was too exhausted to give them names just yet, and when the nurse placed them in her arms, she smiled tearfully.

Mr. Pines smiled affectionately at his family. “I’ll be right back, honey. I’m going to go grab us some water bottles.”

She barely noticed him, cradling her newborn children.

Mr. Pines jogged out of the room and found the vending machine down the hall. Putting in fifty cents for each water bottle, he leaned down to grab them from the vending machine. Standing back up, he heard a horrified screech he recognized as belonging to his wife.

He felt a horrible drop in his stomach. _No. No, it isn’t possible._

“Caroline!” He called out, running as fast as he could, coming to an abrupt stop at the hospital room door, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floors as he did. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

Two nurses had taken the children from Mrs. Pines, rocking the newborns in their arms to calm their crying. Mrs. Pines was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at her hair. A third nurse was desperately trying to calm the new mother down, but was unsuccessful.

“Their wrists!” She gasped out. “Look at their wrists, Will!” The drop in his stomach worsened, and dread filled his veins, but he did as she told him, gently turning each squalling child’s wrists so that he could examine them. 

To his horror, he discovered what had upset her so much. Both children had soulmarks. 

And they matched.


	2. The Dating Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pro tip: crushing on your twin is provably a bad idea. Especially when you’ve already got a soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo chapter one! I didn’t start writing it like right after posting the prologue, what’re you talking about, that’s not a thing that happened. Pinecest expert edward-or-ford (yes I know how lucky am I?!) helping me out with this fic, and without his feedback and brainstorming help, this whole damn fic would be a mess. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this first look at this fic from a non-parental POV!

Chapter One: The Dating Issue 

_What a tragic attraction; what’s the point of romance?_ \- Neon Trees, Teenager in Love

Mabel Caroline Pines, age 17, had never had a boyfriend. 

It’s not like she didn’t want one. She totally did. Her parents were both super encouraging. Sometimes she thought they might even be _pushing_ her into dating. 

There were two problems with this. The first was that Mabel had a soulmark, and nobody wanted to go on a date with somebody who had a soulmark. Why bother? Clearly their soulmate is already in their life, so there’s not much point.

Mabel had always had a soulmark. For as long as she could remember, there it was, on her wrist. Taunting her. Mocking her. Hahaha, laughing at her inability to find her stupid soulmate, wherever he’d run off to. She’d just come home from preschool one day and there it was, her mom had told her. Whoever her soulmate was, she didn’t remember him. He obviously went to her school (her lack of withdrawal symptoms told her that) and she was forever trying to peek at boys’ wrists to see if it was them. It wasn’t, but she tried anyway. 

The second problem was that Mabel was desperately, hopelessly, stupidly, ridiculously in love with someone already. She’d been in love with him for years, which was the opposite of smart, because he was the last person in the world who would ever look at her that way. Like, ever. _Ever_ ever. 

Even so, she waited eagerly for each of his texts, staying up late more often than not just to talk to him. He’d put a beehive in her stomach, and the bees went freakin’ nuts whenever she was around him or even thought about him (which was basically all the time, Christ, get it together, Mabel!). So basically her stomach was all _buzz buzz buzz_ all day long. 

He made her so nervous and so happy, but he also made her incredibly sad. She knew he couldn’t see her like that. There was no way. So she’d been stuck pining after him since she was, like, fourteen. Which, whatever. She was used to it.

She was on her way to see him, as it happened. Or rather, she and her parents were. Her parents always accompanied them, and watched them together constantly. 

Mabel went to visit her brother (yeah, okay, she’s in love with her brother, shut up, it is what it is) in Gravity Falls, Oregon (or Mount Hood for a ski trip if it was warm) multiple times a year. Usually once every few months. She didn’t know Dipper as well as she would’ve liked to. At least, not in person. Sure, they texted all the time, and they even Skyped a decent amount, but she didn’t get to hang out with him unless her parents were watching them. Which was suuuuuper weird, but her parents had always been weird about some stuff.

Most parents didn’t want their daughters dating. This was not the case with Mabel’s parents. They always seemed annoyed when she didn’t have a date for Homecoming. On Valentine’s Day, Mabel’s mom always asked if any of the boys had confessed to her (they hadn’t; everyone knew Mabel had a soulmark at this point, despite the social taboo against discussing such things), and was visibly disappointed at Mabel’s annual response of “no”. 

Mabel got the feeling that if a boy _did_ ever ask her out, her parents would expect her to go out with him whether she liked him or not.

“Just give him a chance, honey,” her dad had told her once when she asked what to do if a boy she didn’t like asked her out. 

Mabel’s mom had nodded, saying, “you might like him more than you thought!”

Mabel didn’t have much of a desire to give anybody a chance if she wasn’t interested. Why waste each other’s time? Frankly, she’d been longing after Dipper so long she didn’t think she had it in her to even _try_ thinking about another boy that way.

Her phone’s text tone sounded, and Mabel felt a smile grace her lips. 

Dipper: are you here yet?

She stifled a giggle and texted him back. 

Me: not yet, silly. I think we’ve got like fifteen minutes left, so we’re close

Dipper: well hurry up

She was thinking of a reply when several minutes passed and he texted again. 

Dipper: I miss you

She smiled. It was really freakin’ hard not to feel hopeful when he said things like that. _He doesn’t see you that way, Mabel! Get over it!_

Me: I miss you, too, Bro Bro!

“Mabel,” her mom said, getting her attention. Her head snapped up.

“Yeah?”

“You sure you’re good to stay at your friend’s tonight?” Mrs. Pines asked. “We don’t want to impose on the Chius, and it’s your first night here since last year.”

Mabel bounced excitedly in her seat at the thought of a sleepover with her friends as soon as she got into town. Her friends, Dipper, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, _Dipper_ \- all her favorite Gravity Falls peeps in one place! 

“Absotively, Momster!” Mabel nodded emphatically. “It’s been waaaaaay too long since I’ve gotten to hang with my GF GFs! Plus, I’m seventeen now! I’m old enough to properly find my soulmate, y’know!” She learned forward conspiratorially, her seatbelt locking against her neck and completely missing the way her parents flinched. “And I _know_ the girls have got some major boy talk to dish out that they’ll only share in person!”

“Remember, Mabel,” said Mr. Pines firmly. “No-“

“Touching the Dipster, yeah yeah, I know,” she grumbled. “Stupid I’ll-die-if-I-touch-my-twin allergy.”

Mrs. Pines rolled her eyes as they pulled up to the Mystery Shack. “Okay, let’s go say hi.”

Standing in front of the Mystery Shack, however, was Dipper, one hand in his pocket and the other scrolling through his phone. 

He looked up when they pulled into the clearing the Shack was in, and a huge grin split across his face when he saw their car. Mabel unlocked her seatbelt before the car had fully stopped.

“Mabel, wait-“ before Mrs. Pines could even finish her sentence, Mabel had opened the door and jumped out of the car. “...until the car has stopped.”

Mabel had barely even heard her, tripping over her feet to get to her brother. Squealing, Mabel stopped several feet away from Dipper, squirming excitedly. 

“Dipper!” She squealed.

He put his phone into his hoodie and shoved his hand in his pockets. “Hey, Mabes,” he grinned at her. 

His eyes were kinda twitchy, and he wasn’t looking right at her. He was kinda… looking over her shoulder, or at the car, or at her parents, but never her. Was that… nervousness? Nah, of course not. He’s got no reason to be nervous. Unless maybe he got her or their parents a risky gift and he’s not sure how they’ll feel about it? But no, Dipper knows what they like, he’s got no reason to be nervous. 

Mabel dismissed the thought.

The thing about Mabel one must understand is that Mabel is a hugger. She hugs everyone, and not being allowed to was very difficult. Risk of dying or not, this no-touching thing was the absolute _worst._ Not being able to hug Dipper after not seeing him for months was awful. Her parents had been super extra adamant about it this time, too. Even more so than they usually were.

One time, Mabel saw an episode of this show where this guy brought dead people back to life by touching them and if he touched them a second time they died permanently, but the guy had this girlfriend he wanted to hold hands with and stuff and they worked around it. Why couldn’t they do something like that? Mabel’s parents had said no, though. 

Which sucked because Mabel really wanted to touch Dipper. Like, she really _really_ wanted to touch Dipper. Seeing him now, being just a few feet from him, not touching him felt… wrong. All wrong. There was something very very wrong with this no-touching situation. 

The longer she stood there not touching him, the more it felt like there were needles under her skin, poking at her from the inside.

Their parents stepped out of the car after what seemed like an eternity (in reality, it was about thirty seconds or less), breaking Mabel out of her stupor. “Okay, kids, let’s bring the presents inside,” said Mrs. Pines. “Dipper, can you help? I’m going to go tell your uncles we’re here.” Dipper nodded, walking around to the back of the car with Mabel in tow. 

“Ugh, Dip,” Mabel groaned. “The drive was _so long_ and after school just got out yesterday sitting for the whole freakin’ car ride was the _worst_!”

She was trying _really_ hard not to blush. Honestly, she was! It’s just that from behind, she could see his butt so well when he walked, and he had just the nicest butt ever and it was soooooo hard not to stare at it. Anyone would’ve stared! Really! It was physically impossible not to. 

“I know, you were telling me that the whole way here,” he turned to face her as they reached the trunk, a grin on his face. 

_Ugh_. Not that grin! No, anything but _that_ grin! It made her heart flutter and the bees swarm! Dammit, Dipper, couldn’t you be a little less attractive? Just a little bit? For the good of humanity! Okay, really just Mabel, but she was part of humanity and she deserved a normal brother/sister relationship that didn’t involve her staring at his butt when he walked, right?

Mrs. Pines had opened the trunk, grabbed a meticulously wrapped present, and stepped back, waiting patiently. 

Reaching into the trunk, Mabel went to grab the same present that Dipper did. They were so close, standing side by side, and their hands nearly touched. They both pulled back abruptly, each looking down to mutter a quiet apology. 

It was so hard to resist inching closer to him. Even with years of practice, somehow, it had gotten harder. God, how had it gotten harder? She’d gotten used to ignoring the suffocating need to touch him, hadn’t she? Jesus, Mabel, get a grip, girl!

He smiled slightly at her again, and Mabel thought her heart might stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Mabel, my sweet summer child. I remember all too well what it’s like to be a teenager desperately in love with someone who you definitely should not be in love with. I hope I got that feeling right for those of you who have also experienced it.


	3. How to Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! I’ll probably start on chapter 3 sometime tonight. As always, edward-or-ford has been a tremendous help, and it’s massively appreciated.

Chapter Two: How to Pretend 

_"You don't love me, big fucking deal. I'll never tell you how I feel."_ \- Marina and the Diamonds, Lies 

“So, Dipper,” Mrs. Pines said, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “You have a girlfriend yet?”

Dipper choked on his apple cider. “Uhhh… Nope, not yet,” he muttered once he’d finished with his coughing fit, quickly taking another sip to soothe his throat.

Mr. and Mrs. Pines glanced at each other briefly.

“Well, keep trying, son. I’m sure you’ll get one soon!” Mrs. Pines smiled encouragingly at him.

Mabel knew, theoretically speaking, that one day, Dipper would have a girlfriend (or boyfriend, who knows?). She just tried very hard to avoid thinking about it. And usually, she was successful. The vast majority of the time, she lived in blissful pretend-ignorance of Dipper’s rapidly increasing date-ability.

He’d probably find his soulmate when he went off to college. Most people did. Why would Dipper be any different? Just because she was a freak who had a soulmate she couldn’t even remember didn’t mean her brother was in the same situation. Why would he be?

“You know,” Mrs. Pines said, leaning forward and addressing Stan and Ford who were seated across from them. “Mabel’s got some very promising dating prospects recently.”

Mabel blinked. She did? Turning to her mom, she spoke up. “I do?”

Mrs. Pines’ gaze turned to her daughter. Was she… glaring at Mabel? But she never glared at Mabel! What was going _on_ with her parents lately? If it had been a glare, it passed almost as quickly as it had appeared, and Mrs. Pines continued speaking.

“Of course you do, honey! You’ve mentioned plenty of very nice boys!” Mrs. Pines said, her dad nodding in agreement.

Dipper looked up at Mabel from his plate, and Mabel definitely definitely definitely didn’t blush from his expression. Or the fact that he was looking at her. Or his jawline. Or his mouth (oh god, his mouth! She could write sonnets about his mouth). Or his eyes. Or his nose. _Oh, come on, Mabel,_ she thought to herself angrily. _You have the same damn nose and eyes! He doesn’t want you, get over it!_

“Does she?” Dipper murmured, as if nobody but her was meant to hear him, and why in the hell was he talking so softly? It was friggin’ distracting.

Mabel smiled awkwardly and shrugged. He raised his eyebrows at her. Just a little bit. Not enough for anyone who didn’t know his tells to notice.

Well. That settled that, then. 

Looks like Dipper’s going to have a talk with her about the very untrue fact that she had apparently never informed him that she had dating prospects that she definitely did not have. And not in the I-definitely-do-not-have-any-sort-of-romantic-or-sexual-feelings-for-my-brother way. She legit didn’t have any romantic prospects. When was the last time she had talked to her parents about a specific boy? She couldn’t remember.

Dipper was still staring at her. They may have the same eyes, but somehow, they were way more attractive on him. Stop being so distracting, Dipper! Like, could ya not? Apparently, though, he could not not. The table in the main room of the Shack was silent. No one was eating. No one was drinking. There was no clinking of silverware on their dishes, no sounds of chewing or swallowing. Just… Silence.

It was at that moment that Ford spoke up. “Well, Dipper’s doing just excellent in school!”

Stan nodded. “He’s helpful in the gift shop, too. ’Preciate you letting me take him in so young. He may have been five, but he learned quick.”

Mrs. Pines smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. He was always very intelligent.”

Mr. Pines nodded in agreement. “We appreciate you taking Dipper in, too, Stan. It would’ve been so difficult for me to stay here permanently with him.”

Stan grunted in acknowledgement. Turning excitedly to Grunkle Ford, Mabel rocked back and forth in her seat. “Have you made any progress in curing the allergy yet? Kinda inconvenient, y’know, being unable to be around your twin for very long.” Mabel groaned exaggeratedly. “We can’t even stay in the same _house_ during breaks! It’s always separate!”

Grunkle Ford chuckled. “Not yet, Mabel. I’m working on it.” Mr. and Mrs. Pines were both looking at Grunkle Ford, but she couldn’t see their expressions. “With such a rare condition, finding a cure is difficult because it doesn’t occur very often to begin with.”

Stan opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth was full of chicken. Ford looked at his brother in disgust. “Jesus, Stanley, chew your food!”

Stan swallowed with a gulp, then shrugged. “Eh, I’m an adult. I do what I want.”

The rest of the table either rolled their eyes or made a face of disgust.

“And this is why,” Dipper said, sighing exasperatedly, “one never sits directly next to, or across from, Grunkle Stan when he’s eating.” They all shared a laugh at Stan’s expense while he frowned.

* * *

An hour later, Mabel found herself waiting at the door to the Shack with an overnight bag. Candy and Grenda would be there soon. She was practically vibrating with excitement at seeing her friends after so long. 

“Hey,” came Dipper’s voice from behind her. _Buzz buzz buzz,_ said the bees in Mabel’s stomach. _He doesn’t love you like that, play it cool, don’t let it show!_ Mabel leaned her head back so it rested on the floor and looked at him upside down.

“Sup, bro?” 

He floundered for a second, wringing his hands and looking at his feet. “So, I was kinda hoping to-“

Mr. and Mrs. Pines rushed into the room. “Dipper!” Mrs. Pines snapped, and he groaned quietly, leaning his head back so that his neck stretched out ( _why_ did he have such an attractive neck? That shouldn’t be allowed) and closing his eyes. “Your sister is about to leave for Candy’s house,” her voice was much calmer now. Weird. “You can talk to her when she gets back.”

Mabel blinked at her parents from her upside down position. They were certainly… out of breath. Also weird. 

Well, whatever. She heard Candy’s car pulling up in front of the Shack, and yup, those were definitely Grenda’s footfalls. Jumping up from her position, Mabel felt her head rush from the sudden movement. Ignoring it, Mabel opened the door and felt the cool winter air hit her face. 

Mabel screamed when she saw her friends. It had been, like, a _year_ since they’d seen each other in person! Candy and Grenda screamed right along with her, and everyone else nearby covered ears with a collective wince.

With barely a word to her parents, Mabel got in the car with her friends and closed the door. _Don’t stare too long don’t smile too wide don’t look too excited to see him standing there don’t_ \- “Bye guys, I’ll see you later! Dip, I’ll text you!” She called out through the open window.

He nodded, and she caught the barest hint of a smile on his lips. 

_He’s not in love with you._

* * *

“So,” Grenda began, sitting between Candy and Mabel two hours later. “Have you found out who your soulmate is yet?”

“Uhhh. Since you last asked me six hours ago?” Mabel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Nope, ‘fraid not.” Her friends both groaned. “But I mean he goes to my school, he’s gotta, or I would have definitely felt something by now, right?”

“That’s true,” Candy agreed. “But you’re seventeen now, and most of the guys in our grade are seventeen, too. Sooooo…”

“Sooooooooo…” Grenda nudged Mabel suggestively.

“So?”

“ _So,_ ” Candy said pointedly. “If you touched him or even saw him, you definitely would’ve _felt_ it, right?”

“In a sexy way!” Grenda chimed in helpfully.

“No, definitely not. Nothing sexy at all.” Mabel made a swiping motion with one of her hands. 

The issue with trying to find your soulmate when you’re in love with someone else is that all the things you should be feeling for your soulmate (wanting to stare at him all the time, arousal, that voice inside of you screaming _touch him touch him_ **_touch him_ ** at the top of its lungs, the whole deal), you already feel all that for the person you’re in love with. When the person you’re in love with is your brother, that makes things extra complicated. 

So Mabel tried to think of the boys she went to school with. Were there any she wanted to see again? No, not really. She was just kinda… indifferent to them. She tried to picture herself sexually with them to see how it felt, but the images of the boys whose faces she could remember quickly gave way to Dipper’s face, and there it was again.

Dammit, Mabel. 

“Nope,” she said quietly. “Definitely nothing sexy.”

“That’s okay, Mabel,” Candy said, patting her friend’s knee. “You’ll figure it out.” Grenda nodded encouragingly. “Don’t suppose you’ve had a peek at Dipper’s wrist?”

Mabel shook her head. “Nah, he never shows me his wrist. You’d have a better chance at seeing it than me since you see him in person more than I do.” She shrugged a shoulder, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her fleece-covered knees. “And anyway, he’d’ve told me if he had a soulmark.”

Grenda nodded. “That’s true.”

Candy didn’t say anything, but she had that expression on her face when she’s thinking about something, with her brow furrowed and lips pursed.

“Candy?” Mabel questioned.

As if broken from a trance, Candy’s head snapped up and she looked at Mabel. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Candy said with a smile and a nod. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on tumblr for interested parties. Same username as here.


	4. Sex on the Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly Mabel’s just trying her best to hide The Feelings™.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaaaay I am so fucking sorry it's been awhile, you guys. But you're not here for my life story and personal bullshit, I'm sure (though please do feel free to ask). So here's chapter three. Enjoy... I hope? Also thank you to edward-or-ford for being a dope beta!

Chapter Three: Sex on the Brain 

_Feel you under my skin; middle of the night, wonder if you feel it, too._ \- All Time Low, Trouble Is

There was a warm body atop Mabel’s, and lips pressed against hers. There were hands grasping her breasts, then one of them traveled down between her legs. 

“Mabel,” gasped a voice as the lips traveled down her neck. A pleasant voice. Deep, but not alarmingly so. It was soothing, familiar. Comforting and arousing all at the same time. 

One hand pinched her nipple while the other stroked her, and she gasped out quietly.

When she opened her eyes, Dipper leaned down to kiss her again, and-

Mabel woke with a start, disorientated. Her eyes flitted around the dark room, and she remembered she was at Candy’s. Recognizing Grenda’s sleeping form on the floor and Candy’s even breaths beside her, Mabel sighed quietly.

Well. That was certainly disappointing. Those types of dreams were the worst because she hated waking up from them.

She hadn’t always had so many sex dreams. It was a recent development. And frankly, she wasn’t a fan. Yeah, Dipper was sexy, but like. She _knew_ that already. She didn’t need her subconscious waving a big ol’ flag with “REMEMBER HOW SEXY YOUR BRO IS?” emblazoned on it. She could do without that, thanks ever so much.

It was half an hour before she managed to fall back asleep. She definitely didn’t fill her friends in on the details the next day, even though she probably would’ve if the dream had been about literally anybody except her twin brother. 

She was quite sure that when Grenda and Candy thought of “sexy” vibes in relation to Mabel, Dipper was the last person on the face of the earth who might be considered for such things.

* * *

The following morning, Mabel tried her absolute hardest to seem as normal as she possibly could. Y’know, talk without changes in her voice or tone or speech pattern. Gesticulate some but not too much. Talk about non-Dipper things. Definitely not because Mabel was having a great deal of difficulty thinking about anything but Dipper and what his lips and hands and teeth (oh god his _teeth_ ) would feel like on various parts of her body. That had zero to do with it. 

Of course, normal for Mabel was… odd for other people, to say the least. And that suited her just fine. Really, it did. She rather liked it that way, actually. Normal people were kinda lame. 

Still, there were, of course, some aspects of Mabel’s life that she sometimes wished were a bit more normal, she pondered as she brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror. Not entirely, just a bit. She wished she didn’t have to live separately from her sibling. She wished she’d found her soulmate the same way as everyone else rather than having it be a big mystery. 

But most all, she wished she’d never developed these stupid feelings for Dipper. They really _were_ stupid. Who gets feelings for their twin, anyway? Like, where did that even come from?

When Mabel thinks of the word “incest”, she pictures royal families trying to keep the bloodlines pure and stereotypical hillbillies and rednecks. What she did _not_ picture was a modern day middle class Californian teenager. 

Not that it had gotten to incest levels, of course. Obviously not. In order for anything to happen, Dipper would have to return her feelings, which he decidedly did not. Why would he? 

_You’re the weirdo_ , she reminded herself as she set her hairbrush down. 

Well. It is what it is, she supposed. No reason to dwell on it.

And on that note, Mabel skipped out of the bathroom, doing a rather excellent job of pretending she was definitely not dwelling on her romantic-but-very-much-unrequited love for her brother. 

Not even a little. 

* * *

They didn’t ride in the same car. Of course they didn’t. They never did. She knew, intellectually speaking, that her and Dipper couldn’t be in the same car for the half hour drive from Candy’s to the mountains. Even five minute drives, though, her parents refused. 

“What if you get stuck in traffic?” They’d demand whenever she asked if just once, Dipper could take her in his car. It didn’t seem to make a difference that the odds of a traffic jam in a town as small as Gravity Falls were minuscule at best. Eventually, she stopped asking, stopped trying to reason with them. 

She wished she could text him during the drive. She couldn’t stop staring at his last message. She didn’t _mean_ to, it was just that she sometimes got into these moods where whenever she stopped looking at his texts, she’d immediately get the irresistible urge to look at them again, even if she knew full well that all she’d see was the fifteen minute old _see you in a bit_.

Mabel felt bad about the whole thing sometimes. It wasn’t that she’d meant to fall in love. She truly hadn’t. But… Dipper was just so goddamn _sweet_. He was considerate and kind and he always asked about her day. And when she told him, he actually _listened_! None of the guys at her school ever did that. They just stared at her boobs while she talked.

It was suuuuuuuper guilt-inducing, though. Like, somewhere near her (it had to be near her or she’d have been going through withdrawal symptoms all her life) was her soulmate. Emotionally healthy people developed crushes on their soulmates even before they turned seventeen and felt the pull.

Evidently, Mabel wasn’t an emotionally healthy person. She’d developed a crush on her twin brother. And then it had developed into this suffocating, desperate, agonizing, all-encompassing consuming love and adoration that she just couldn’t seem to shake.

It was hard not to see him, she mused as she stared at her phone (still black because he hadn’t texted her, obviously; get a grip, Mabel). But then, it was just as hard to actually see him. The urge to touch him was even worse lately.

Sighing and leaning back in her seat, Mabel stared out the window. 

She completely missed her father’s solemn gaze flickering to her briefly in the rear view mirror.

* * *

Mabel liked visiting Gravity Falls in the winter. She probably wouldn’t get to see snow otherwise. It was beautiful.

It had snowed in the mountains the night before, and there was frost on the ground and snow on the tops of the trees, the sun bouncing off them and making them shine. The cold air bit her face when she opened the car door, but Dipper’s smile in her direction as he stepped out of his own beat-up sedan made her forget about everything else. 

_Buzz buzz buzz_ , said the bees. 

Mabel resisted the urge to dance when she saw him.

Or slap her stomach a few times. Maybe the sting of it would numb the _stupid fucking bees_ and their _stupid fucking buzzing_ , for god’s sake, would you _shut up already-_

She did neither, however (good job, Mabel girl!), instead opting for a definitely-not-nervous-in-the-slightest-so-just-shut-your-mouth smile. 

“Why hello, Sir Dippingsauce!” She ambled over to him, telling herself she was doing an excellent job of not being awkward. 

How long did she have to keep that up for again? A week? That was… that was fine. She could do a week. She could totally do a week, no problemo (Note: Mabel could not do a week. She could possibly do 2.5 days, and even that was most certainly pushing it, but to suggest as much is incredibly rude, as Mabel was doing her very best to make her mind into a 100% Doubt-Free Zone™).

He put an arm across his stomach, the other rigid at his side, and bowed deeply at the waist with a decidedly snooty expression on his too-attractive-to-be-legal face. “Lady Mabelton,” he greeted. “I trust your carriage ride was pleasant?”

“Indeed, milord. You may rise,” she lifted her hand in a dainty gesture, her nose (which was red from the cold) in the air. He did, grinning. “So, what d’you have planned for me n’ the ‘rents today?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Just a fun little nature walk, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

Mabel shot him double finger guns. “Coolio, bro-lio.” 

Their parents were just climbing out of the car. They always took _forever_. Why did people over the age of twenty-eight always take forever to emerge from a vehicle?

Mabel fiddled with the empty space her right forefinger left in gloves she wore. Gloves were always too big for her as far as finger-length went.

“Soooooo…” she drawled as her parents rounded their car. “Lesgo!” 

Running off in a totally random direction, she skidded to a halt at the edge of a clearing. “Yeeeah… might wanna let me lead the way, Mabes. I know my way around pretty well, since I… y’know… live here,” Dipper said with another one of those heart-stopping grins. 

_Ugh_. 

Suddenly feeling tremendously uncomfortable again, Mabel laughed awkwardly. “Indeed you do, bro-bro. Indeed you do.” _Chill chill chill it’s fine, it’s fine, totally fine up in here._

Dipper walked around Mabel and started down a winding gravel path, definitely neglecting to give her anything that could remotely be classified as “enough space to not have a heart attack”. She followed behind him after several seconds, trying _very_ hard not to stare at his butt. 

Again. Dammit. 

Mrs. Pines even scolded him a bit. “Careful not touch your sister, Dipper!” 

Her voice carried through the trees, and Dipper called out a quick, “kay,” over his shoulder before continuing on. It had been perhaps five minutes. Ten, maybe? Who knew? Time lost meaning when she stared at Dipper too long, and he was walking directly ahead of her. Besides, she had to pay attention to where he was going! She couldn’t really be blamed for staring at him, right? 

The path widened significantly after awhile, allowing Dipper to fall back a bit, frosted gravel crunching beneath his sneakers. 

“Is it okay if we walk ahead of you, Dipper?” Mr. Pines asked. “Your mother and I would like to look at the scenery a bit more clearly than we can behind you and your sister.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward from here.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pines smiled at him and stepped around him, Mr. Pines patting Dipper’s shoulder affectionately as he walked past. 

Dipper fell into step beside Mabel, walking in silence. Mabel inspected her shoes. Some of the frost had gotten on the rhinestones she’d glued to them.

Glancing up in front of her after several minutes, she noticed that their parents had gotten further and further away, far out of earshot.

For the first time in as long as Mabel could remember, they didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to her and Dipper’s interactions.

Blushing furiously at the very idea of being alone with her twin, she looked down at her shoes again. Thank god for the cold. Nobody would question her red face in the cold.

“So,” Dipper said haltingly. Mabel’s head whipped up to face him, her eyes wide. She hadn’t really been expecting him to actually _speak_ , but then she couldn’t very well have _not_ expected it, either. It had just… never occurred to her that he might.

“So?” Mabel said back. _Don’t be awkward don’t be awkward don’t be awkward_ \- 

“Well, there’s this… thing.”

“Very specific,” Mabel nodded indulgently. “Say no more, brother dear. I know of what you speak.”

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Y-you do?” He stuttered. 

Mabel snorted. “Uh, _no_. Doi. Why would I know?”

He blinked at her. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Guess you… probably wouldn’t, huh?” He looked away and muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

“What was that?” She asked, pushing her hair back behind the ear closest to him, some of the strands catching on her glove.

“Oh, uh. Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Mm...kay?” When he didn’t say anything, just kept staring at her, she spoke up again. “What were you gonna tell me?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah. _That_. Right.”

“Right. That,” Mabel agreed with a nod, as if she had the slightest idea what he was talking about (note: she did not, in fact, have the slightest idea what he was talking about).

“So, there’s this thing,” Dipper said again.

“Right,” Mabel repeated. 

“This thing… that I’ve been kinda meaning to tell you for… well,” he laughed hoarsely. She’d never heard him laugh like that before. “For a few years, actually.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Errhm. Okay. What is it?”

“Okay, so it’s like this,” he started, then stopped and looked up at the sky. “Why me?” He muttered, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him again.

“Okay, Dip, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He sighed and stopped walking. So did she. His eyes were closed, which was probably a good thing because they really were terribly distracting and whatever he had to tell her seemed pretty important. He turned his face to her again, opening them, something… different in them. Something she’d never seen before. Something she didn’t recognize. 

Something urgent and terrifying and nerve-wracking in a way she didn’t entirely understand, and then-

“Kids!” Her dad called out, both parents jogging over to them. Well, okay, it was more like running. Why would they be running? They hadn’t been _that_ far behind, yeesh.

“Shit,” Dipper muttered again, and Mabel turned to him in surprise. He’d tried to talk to her before, too. Before she’d left for Candy’s. Why? What was going on? Was he sick? If he was sick, why couldn’t he tell their parents? Oh god, what if he’d gotten an STD? What if he’d gotten somebody pregnant? No, wait, pregnancy didn’t last “a few years”, which he had said very clearly, so not that. Oh, fuckity fucking fuck, what if he’d found his soulmate?

“What’re you guys talkin’ about?” Their mom asked with a smile that was a bit too tight and didn’t reach her eyes.

Dipper shrugged. “School and whatnot. Just catching up.”

Mabel didn’t understand why he was lying, but, well. Mabel Pines ain’t no snitch, so she nodded and said, “yeppers yeppers Johnny Deppers! The usual, y’know.”

Mr. Pines inclined his head. Mrs. Pines was clasping his hand. 

Her knuckles were white. 

Their parents didn’t let their children out of their sight for the remainder of the hike.

Mabel could barely speak. She couldn’t even think much of anything. 

_What if he’d found his soulmate_? 

The bees never shut up, either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... thoughts?


	5. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a big thank you to edward-or-ford for being a dope ass beta! We have a bit of Dipper POV here, but not much. I hope it worked okay. Also there’s some angst so heads up there

Chapter Four: Shadows 

_You’re all I want and I don’t know why. This new addiction is all I know, and it’s safe to say that I’ve lost control._ \- 2 in the Chest, 1 in the Head, New Years Day

Mabel knew a great many things. She knew how to fix rips in tights and leggings without making it noticeable (and if it _was_ noticeable, it was fucking _fabulous_ , okay?). She knew how to straighten and re-curl her hair in just the right way. She knew how to contour her makeup to change the way her facial structure appeared, and how to paint a mug while keeping it dishwasher safe.

Mabel was, of course, interested enough in those things to learn about them. What she was _not_ interested in is how things work. It was far more important that they _do_ work rather than _how_ , as far as she was concerned. So whenever her Grunkles, dad, and Dipper got together to watch a marathon of How It’s Made on the Shack’s frankly ancient TV, both Mabel and her mom were bored out of their minds. 

She was forced to learn plenty in school, thank you very much. It was winter break. She didn’t wanna learn on winter break. Gross. That’s the exact opposite of what winter break is for, and Mabel was of the opinion that doing otherwise is positively blasphemous, but under the careful tutelage of her mother, she’d long since stopped trying to understand the males of the species. Or rather, the males of her family specifically (she’d managed to obtain a vague grasp on the male minds outside of her family, or at least some of them, she thought. Perhaps the boys at her school were just easy to read, or maybe it was teenage boys in general. Not that they were strictly logical in her mind, of course; she just understood how their brains worked to some degree).

And so, an hour after they return to the Shack from the hike, Mabel found herself standing at the kitchen counter, carefully stacking the fifty-seventh (she hadn’t counted, of course, but it was indeed the fifty-seventh) mini marshmallow on top of its companions in her mug of hot chocolate while the beginnings of their silly show blared in the background.

She was humming an old BABBA song as she plucked another marshmallow from the bag, swaying her hips back and forth to the beat in her mind. She stopped when she heard the sound of footsteps, looking over her shoulder to see Dipper shuffling into the room on socked feet.

He was looking everywhere but her. Mabel found this unusual, but what was infinitely more odd was the way he walked over to her quietly, dropped a folded piece of paper at her feet, and then promptly moved to open the fridge as if nothing at all had occurred.

Dropping the marshmallow into her mug, she reached down to retrieve the paper.

“Uh… Dip, you dro-“

“What do you think I should have to drink?” Dipper cut in quickly, the words sloppy and thrown together without proper enunciation.

Mabel blinked. He didn’t want her to ask about it, that much was evident. A note for her, then, perhaps? A _secret_ note?

“Well… I’m having hot chocolate, myself,” she suggested. 

“With an obscene number of marshmallows, I see.”

Mabel gasped and put a hand to her chest. “Me? My dear brother, I am positively offended that you would even _suggest_ such a thing!”

He grinned. “Maybe I’ll have some more cider.” He poured himself a glass and left the room before Mabel could think to ask about the paper again.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was coming, she turned back towards her mug, just so, if needed, she could shove the paper into her sweater pocket unnoticed and pretend she was still preparing her hot chocolate. She unfolded it carefully. Dipper didn’t write her handwritten notes. She was a bit excited (more than a bit, but she would never admit to such a thing). Sue her. His handwriting was messy, and she had some minor difficulties reading it, but she did manage to decipher it after a brief moment of staring at the page. 

_I need to talk to you in private. Once everyone’s gone to bed here, I’ll pick you up from Candy’s. I’ll text you if anything goes wrong._

In private? Mabel’s heart might very well have stopped. She’d never been alone with Dipper. This afternoon had been the closest she’d ever come to it. Even then, though, they hadn’t been actually, truly, genuinely, legitimately alone. Their parents had been _right there_. And then they’d been interrupted. Their parents were always there. 

She was so nervous, so focused on the way her heart was pounding in her ears, that she completely forgot to put the marshmallows away.

* * *

If Mabel could see how nervous Dipper was as he pulled on his jeans and shoes, she wouldn’t have believed it was in any way related to her. If it was somehow proven to her that it _was_ related to her, however, she would have been thrilled beyond all measure.

But Mabel couldn’t see Dipper, as he was on the other end of a text message that read _leaving now_ , and so she remained wholly unaware of the absolute terror he wasn’t bothering to keep from his facial expression, as there was none of the usual audience present. 

With no one around to request an explanation, Dipper felt no need to keep his anxiety in check as he placed his shaking foot on the last stair of the Shack. 

He was about to walk over to the coat rack by the front door when-

“Dipper,” rang out his father’s voice, the low tone sounding like a roar in the quiet of the house.

Dipper whirled around to face his dad, who was seated in an armchair hidden in the shadows of the living room. It was no wonder Dipper hadn’t noticed him before he spoke; he could’ve been a shadow himself.

Dipper was relieved it was too dark for Mr. Pines to see his expression clearly, the man’s face obscured by darkness. He instead concerned himself with his body language and voice. He hunched himself over as if he were barely awake and faked a yawn.

“Dad, you scared me.”

“What are you doing up this late?” Mr. Pines asked.

“Getting a glass of water. Woke up thirsty,” Dipper explained, careful to keep his voice tired-sounding.

“Mmm,” Mr. Pines nodded. “Kitchen’s that way,” he pointed in the opposite direction Dipper had been walking in, as if Dipper didn’t live there and was not fully aware of the Shack’s layout (note: Dipper was indeed fully aware of the Shack’s layout and could certainly navigate it half asleep).

“Huh?” Dipper said with false bleariness. “Oh, right.”

Shuffling into the kitchen, Dipper poured himself a glass of water and moved sluggishly back to the living room with it in hand.

“Goodnight, son.”

“Night, dad,” Dipper mumbled with more fake sleepiness.

If Mabel had seen it, she wouldn’t know what to feel. But she hadn’t seen it, because Dipper was on the other end of a _dad’s awake, we’ll have to tomorrow_ text.

She also couldn’t see the expression he made when she replied, asking why he couldn’t just text it to her, and not to keep her in suspense, nor could Dipper see her inflamed face (and neck and ears, if we’re honest, but don’t share such observances with Mabel) or the way she was biting her lip nervously, perhaps he might not have been as nervous. Perhaps he might have even been hopeful.

But alas, neither twin had the other in their sight, and were therefore doomed to be eaten alive by their anxiety and respective insecurities. 

If one knows anything about teenage girls (and perhaps even a fair percentage of women as well), one is fully cognizant of the rather unfortunate tendency many of them have to analyze, reanalyze, and overanalyze each individual word, action, and tone of voice that emerges from the object of their affection.

In Mabel’s case, she was seated on the cold tiles of Candy’s bathroom, back leaning against the locked door. It was late enough that Grenda and Candy were asleep, thankfully. Recently, Mabel had been taking _forever_ to fall asleep. Which was strange, because she had never had any issues that could be anywhere near insomnia before. Thus, everyone else fell asleep before she did.

It wasn’t her fault. Honestly, it wasn’t! It was just that Dipper was so damn attractive and sweet and funny, and how could she sleep when she could only fight her thoughts of him while conscious? He plagued her dreams, so she couldn’t even escape him in sleep the way she used to be able to do. He had invaded her every thought, every moment, every breath. He was in her bloodstream. In her veins. She could not escape her yearning for him.

And so, as she sat on the bathroom floor staring at her phone, at Dipper’s last text of _I need to tell you in person_ , she typed out a slow, resigned _okay_ and leaned her head back against the door.

What was going _on_ with him? He’d told her so many things over text before and it had never been an issue. Why was this different? Maybe he was only insisting on telling her in person because they were so close distance-wise, which wasn’t a regular occurance, of course, but maybe he’d have been perfectly fine with telling her whatever it was over text if she hadn’t been visiting Gravity Falls? Or maybe he’d want to FaceTime or Skype instead? Or maybe it was so very important he tell her in person that he’d actually been waiting since the last time they had seen each other?

But what could be so important? How was it so important he _needed_ to tell her in person? Was it truly so different than every other thing he’d ever told her? Countless stories and anecdotes and complaints and late-night phone calls and existential discussions; how was this different?

No matter how much she thought and analyzed it (which, rest assured, was a great deal indeed), she kept coming back to one thing, one unthinkable, horrifying, terrifying, heart-wrenching, devastating scenario:

What if he’d found his soulmate?

What else would have been so important, made it so essential he told her in person? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. 

Dipper had never mentioned how he felt about the prospect of having a soulmate. He knew how she felt about hers, and having a soulmark, but he’d never shared his own feelings with her in return.

Which was fair, honestly, because soulmates and soulmarks were _intensely_ personal things. She might as well have asked him to strip down and do some nude modeling for her (which, side note, that sounded positively _heavenly_. She never drew him or painted him where anybody could see; only in the secret sketchbook she kept in a locked drawer in her bedroom, and those drawings were primarily focused on his jawline and facial structure, although she had drawn his butt on more than a few occasions. And his arms. And his torso. What could she say? She looked at him a lot, studied the way he moved, and he inspired her to create. In any case, she’d absolutely love to see him naked, obviously, because who wouldn’t, but to _draw_ him… get it together Mabel, you’re getting all worked up!), which… was not going to happen, tragically.

He’d never shared anything regarding his soulmate with her. That meant, of course, that he hadn’t found his yet, nor was he in the unusual soulmarked-but-not-knowing-with-whom situation that Mabel herself was in. As indicated by his insistence on telling her in person (which he had, of course, never insisted upon before, or even expressed a passing desire to tell her something in person rather than digitally), whatever it was must have been more important than anything he’d ever told her. 

What was more important than him finding his soulmate? She couldn’t think of another possibility. Couldn’t even fathom it, no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really fathom the possibility that he might’ve found his soulmate, either, but that was primarily because she didn’t want to.

What would that be like, to watch him with his soulmate? Knowing Mabel’s luck, she’d never find out who hers was (she’d clearly been around him her whole life and had yet to find him, so what were the odds she’d figure it out later? Once she left school, she’d probably start experiencing withdrawal symptoms, which would be horrible, but she had long since accepted the likelihood of that), and since she saw Dipper regularly and talked to him all the time, it wasn’t likely she’d get over him.

Family gatherings could be a real bitch.

Which meant, of course, that Mabel was doomed to suffer withdrawal symptoms for the rest of her life while watching the man she loved, who just so happened to be her twin brother, find his soulmate, fall in love, get married, and have children. It was when she considered things like that that the idea of regularly consuming Smile Dip sounded fan-freaking-tastic. At least then she’d be too out of it to suffer.

Mabel wasn’t one for wallowing in self-pity and misery. She was a fairly positive person. Whenever she found herself moping or depressed, she could usually pull herself out of it. In that respect, she was tremendously lucky, as not everyone was capable of that. 

But with this, loving Dipper (or rather, being _in_ love with Dipper, which she very much was)... there was this sadness deep inside of her that she just couldn’t seem to shake. She could tuck it away in the back of her mind, pretend it wasn’t there. At least for awhile, anyway. But it never left. Not really. It was always there, in the box she’d locked it away in. Sometimes, though, the box broke open, and it would consume her, like shadows consuming light.

When she thought of Dipper with his soulmate, smiling at a nameless, faceless stranger, beaming at his wedding (knowing Dipper, he’d insist she be a bridesmaid. What agony _that_ would be), holding a child that wasn’t Mabel’s, could never, ever be Mabel’s (Mabel would probably be the godmother, too), the shadows never failed to consume her.

She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees, and let the tears fall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody that can correctly guess what’s gonna happen next gets a gif of the crisp high five from Deadpool kthxbye


	6. Into the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week in “girls prepare for seeing somebody they’ve got the hots for”, Mabel spares goes all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to EOF for being an awesome beta! This would be a dumpster fire without him tbh

Chapter Five: Into the Night 

_It’s three AM, I’m outside your window. Jump the fence; dad will never know. And then you took control of the radio, turned up all the songs I know. I’m risking everything, and that’s alright with me._ \- The Summer Set, Passenger Seat

Mabel Caroline Pines, age seventeen, five foot three (and a Virgo, for interested parties) was positively average. As in, she was perfectly fine. Reasonably acceptable. Nothing to gawk at, sure, but certainly not a goblin or in any way repulsive.

Her face was average, her boobs were average, her hair was average, her butt was average. Even her feet were average-sized. There was nothing inherently _wrong_ with Mabel’s appearance. Sure, she’d change the odd thing here and there if given the chance to do so (the length of her eyelashes, for example, or the natural shape of her eyebrows).

Of course, Mabel would never admit such things out loud. How could she? It would ruin the confidence she pretended to have, and that simply wouldn’t do.

To be fair to herself, which she always tried to be, Mabel was quite skilled at creativity-driven tasks. However, no amount of creative proficiency could have prevented the required sleuthing, as well as pre-sleuth planning and timing, that one particular evening required in order to be pulled off.

Mabel didn’t deign to share with Candy and Grenda exactly whom she was meeting (“I’m sneaking out to meet my brother in the dead of night” hardly warrants a forty-five minute shower where she spent the majority of the time shaving parts of her body that didn’t strictly _need_ shaving as they wouldn’t be seen, thirty minutes of blow drying and styling one’s hair, thirty more minutes of makeup application, the nervousness, not to mention the outfit-picking-out process), but she _did_ say she was meeting a boy she might’ve sorta kinda had a teensy bit of a thing for. Her friends knew her well enough to know she was understating her feelings a great deal, of course, but they didn’t pry. Okay, they did, but they didn’t pry _too_ much.

In any case, Mabel was quite pleased with the results of her hour in the bathroom mirror. She’d drenched the ever-loving crap out of her hair in glitter spray as she brushed it, and the hot air of the hair dryer made the spray set in so it didn’t get on Candy’s fingers while she began a partial French braid at the crown of Mabel’s head. 

Y’know, the sort of hairstyle that, to the untrained eye, didn’t look like it took a whole lot of time and effort, when in reality, it 100% did. 

Her makeup was in much the same vein. She had a full face of makeup on, but it was fairly natural with a few highlights.

“Why can’t we use bright red lipstick again, or wing your eyeliner?” Grenda complained. 

“Because,” Mabel said emphatically. “If Di-“ Cutting herself off and pressing her lips together tightly, collecting her thoughts. Candy raised a slender eyebrow before Mabel continued. “If he sees winged eyeliner and bright red lipstick, he’ll think something’s up! I don’t want him to _know_ I’m interested!”

“But you want him to look deep into your eyes, and the eyeliner will draw attention to them,” reminded Grenda.

“Yeah, and bright red lipstick will draw attention to your lips, which means he’s more likely to think about kissing you,” agreed Candy. 

Mabel sighed and held up a tube of lipstick that was just a few shades darker than her natural lip color.

“The pink will do that same thing without being too obvious about it. If he’s interested, he’ll notice my lips and my boobs, and if he’s not, then, well… then he’s not, I guess.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Grenda conceded.

Candy was silent for a moment, staring searchingly at Mabel’s face. “Who did you say you were meeting again?”

“I- I didn’t,” Mabel stuttered briefly, covering her discomfort by turning her attention to applying the lipstick. This was just as well, as if she had seen Candy’s highly suspicious expression, she would’ve been even more nervous than she already was, and it should be noted that that was no small amount by any measure. 

Perfect. Just the right amount of “LOOK AT ME” vibes from her lips.

Grabbing a bottle of perfume, she sprayed a bit on her wrist, rubbing it against her other one, and then on her neck and under her ears.

“You guys sure this outfit isn’t too much? I don’t want him to think I’m trying to impress him, and the heels, I dunno...”

Both girls shook their heads furiously. “No, it’s perfect! And we already coordinated your makeup and jewelry so no way are we changing it up now!” Grenda exclaimed.

“Mhm,” Candy agreed. “And the heels are perfect! They make your hips sway extra when you walk _and_ they make your butt stuck out a little bit! They’re not even that high, he probably won’t even notice you’re wearing them.”

Right. Nobody wore jeans when they were trying to impress somebody. Well, not when they were being obvious about it, anyway. And Mabel was certainly trying her hardest not to be obvious. 

And she was 100% trying to impress Dipper. She wanted Dipper to see her and wish she wasn’t his sister, wish they shared a soulmark. She wanted him to ache so badly for her that it felt like his bones were trying to escape his skin.

She ached for him that way, after all. It was only fair she made him ache for her in return. Even if it was only once, only for a split second.

When Mabel’s phone chimed to signal she’d gotten a text, she snatched it up before either of her friends could sneak a peek at the screen.

 _I’m outside_ read Dipper’s text. Then a second one came in with a _whoosh_ from her phone’s speaker. _Lights are off so nobody can see my car but I’m here._

Mabel wasn’t sure where her heart was. It might’ve been in her stomach, or perhaps her throat, or maybe even Candy’s basement, but it most definitely was _not_ in her chest.

“He’s here,” Mabel said quietly, standing on shaky legs. God, why had she worn heels? What had she been thinking?

“Are you ready?!” Grenda demanded excitedly.

“Nope,” Mabel squeaked out.

“Yes you are!” Candy said firmly. “You are _absolutely_ ready! You look hot, girl, you’re gonna make him jizz his pants just from looking at you!”

Mabel seriously doubted that, and she would most definitely laugh if it happened. But yeah, it wasn’t gonna happen. Because no matter how much time Mabel spent on making herself look her prettiest, Dipper would only ever see her as his sister.

Still, though. A girl could dream, right?

Mabel has never really considered Candy’s first floor bedroom being an asset before, but it most certainly had become one. Climbing out a window was far easier if that window was on the ground floor.

Still, staring out into the blackness of the cold Oregon night as Candy popped out her window screen and set it to the side, Mabel wondered how she had gotten there. Thirteen minutes before midnight, done up like she was going on a date, about to climb out her friend’s bedroom window and tiptoe through the front yard to secretly meet her twin brother whom she just so happened to be in love with, praying to every deity she’d ever heard of that he hadn’t found his soulmate.

 _Not yet_ , she pleaded silently, staring at the outline of his car, just a shade darker than the trees and the night sky, barely visible at all. _Let me have him to myself just a little longer_.

She wasn’t ready to share him with another girl. She never really would be, but in time, she’d come to accept it. She had to, right? There was no other option. She wanted him to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with her, even if it made her feel like her body was consuming itself from the inside out, she wanted him to be happy. 

“Mabel?” Grenda asked cautiously. 

“I’m fine,” she assured her friend. She couldn’t mess up her makeup by crying. 

Mascara and eyeliner were a bitch to fix.

Bracing herself on the windowsill, she put one jean-clad leg over and out the window, then the other.

Looking back at her friends in the light of Candy’s bedroom one last time, second guessing herself for half a second (she’d never snuck out before, after all), Mabel smiled shakily. Both her friends beamed back at her. Candy leaned down the couple of inches required to be at Mabel’s eye level.

“Knock ‘em dead.”

Grenda nodded enthusiastically. “And tell us _everything_ when you get back!”

Grinning, Mabel hopped out of the window only to immediately realize that heels and frosty grass were not a great mix, and thus struggled to maintain her balance.

“Wait!” Grenda whisper-yelled.

Whipping her head around to look at her friends staring out at her through the window, Mabel smiled as Candy hastily squashed the essentials (phone, lipstick, tampons, breath mints, makeup remover wipes, and a compact mirror) into a purse before shoving it into the hand Grenda had stretched out behind her and was flailing about wildly, signalling to _hurry the fuck up, Candy, time is of the essence here_ before finally tossing it at Mabel, who caught it with minimal fumbling and put it over her shoulder.

“We’ll leave the window unlocked. Let us know if you aren’t gonna come home tonight!” Grenda informed Mabel with an exaggerated wink and closed the window. 

Mabel rolled her eyes affectionately and did her very best to hobble over to Dipper’s car with as much dignity as she could muster. 

Heels and grass did not mix, and they extra-dextra didn’t mix when the grass was wet and very, very cold.

Reaching the curb, she perched her feet on it, and reached slowly, ever so slowly, towards the handle, and heard the _click_ of the lock being undone from the inside. She couldn’t see in the windows; it was too dark. 

The chill of the winter night bit into her fingers as they brushed the silver door handle, and she exhaled as she grasped it, her breath visible in the cold air.

Grasping the handle, Mabel opened the door slowly, and the overhead light in the car switched on automatically.

“Hurry!” Dipper whispered urgently. “Don’t want anyone to see the light.”

Mabel moved to sit in the passenger seat of his car as quickly as she could with the amount of shaking her limbs were doing, and settled in, closing the door behind her.

“Where are we going?” She asked, too afraid to look at him in the dim light of the streetlamp. She’d have to strain her eyes a great deal to see him, anyway. 

“The woods. Not far from here. Just… somewhere nobody will see my car and recognize it.”

“Awfully recognizable, are ya now?” She tried to joke, but it came out stilted and awkward. Could he tell how nervous, no, how _terrified_ , she was?

She could almost hear the shrug in his voice as he started the car, not turning the headlights on until they turned a corner.

“I mean… it’s a really small town. I don’t think there’s anybody here whose name I don’t know. So yeah, they all know what my car looks like,” he said it quietly, and it occurred to Mabel just then that he hadn’t turned on any music. The silence was suffocating.

Not knowing what to say, Mabel remained silent for a bazillion years, watching the trees pass them by. It was nothing like California, where the activity never stopped, just changed. It was quiet. Peaceful. _Suffocating_. 

Okay, so it wasn’t actually a bazillion years. More like ten minutes. But hell if it didn’t _feel_ like a bazillion years.

Dipper pulled into a clearing and put the car in park. It wasn’t a road, but it had clearly been driven over many a time.

The light came on again as he switched gears, and he turned the headlights back off. Turning to look at each other, really look at each other, for the first time since that afternoon, they found themselves speechless.

Dipper was, in a word, breathtaking. The soft glow of the overhead light lit the shadows on his face in such a way that his eyes almost seemed to glow, and his hair fell over his forehead in the most adorable way, and his lips were slightly parted and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. 

It was warm in the car, but what else could his cheeks be flushed from?

“You look…” he coughed, looking at his lap briefly. “Nice,” he finished weakly. 

“Thanks,” she managed to force out. Even a syllable was a struggle. God, how had she never been alone with him before? Why was the atmosphere so incredibly different? She didn’t even feel like herself!

“So… here’s the thing, Mabel…” he trailed off. 

“The thing?” 

“Yeah, the thing I wanted to talk to you about. Y’know. The _thing_ ,” he held his hands out and accentuated the last word with a movement. 

“Errr… sorry, no. I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro-bro,” she shook her head. “You literally just left me a ultra-mega cryptic note saying you had to tell me something and that’s it.”

He nodded, ran a hand through his hair, and when he turned his head just so his jawline came into the light and- _good god_ why? Why must the gods torture Mabel thus?

“Right. I guess…” he blinked rapidly, staring determinedly off in the direction of absolutely nothing. “I guess you wouldn’t, huh?”

“Is… is everything okay?” She asked him softly. “It’s gotta be pretty important for you to want a one-on-one meeting like this, so…”

“Yeah, I mean, no… I mean. Ugh. I dunno.” He ran a hand over his face, clearly agonizing over something. 

What in the actual ever-loving fuck was going _on_?

“Dip,” she said, forcing a sternness she definitely didn’t feel into her voice. “What’s going on?”

“Right,” he said with a nod that appeared to be more to himself than to her, and then looked at her. There was something in his eyes. Mabel didn’t know what it was, but whatever was in his gaze, she knew in her very soul that it was the exact opposite of the frost on the grass outside the car. 

Not that that made any sense, of course, but that was the only conclusion she could come to without at least forty-five minutes of analysis.

“Right,” he said again. “I guess… I guess it would probably be easier to just… show you, maybe…”

“Uh. Okay?” Mabel blinked. Show her what now?

Dipper held out his arm, palm up, except his fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were shut, too, and in much the same way, and then…

And then he took a deep breath, held it, and yanked his sleeve up. 

Mabel’s eyes were fixed on the inside of his wrist. Dipper’s soulmark was a shooting star with the outline of a tree in the center. 

Exactly like hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp! I know, the shock! Bet you weren’t expecting that one!


	7. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now she knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s here! Let me know what you think of her reaction! As always, thanks to Edward-or-Ford for his help as beta and brainstorming buddy!

_Can you feel it now? I’ve weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out._ \- Cartel, Only You

There are instances in our lives when we see or hear something so utterly shocking that our brains short-circuit and stop working entirely beyond the basic functions required to keep our bodies alive. Some things simply cause the brain to react in a 404-thought-process-not-found sort of way. That’s just how it is with some things, and it can’t really be avoided.

When confronted with something our brains cannot handle, we have a tendency to think, say, and do, unusual things. Someone might laugh at the shock of seeing a corpse, but that isn’t because they actually find the situation amusing. They are simply so horrified that their brain doesn’t know how to react, and so the person laughs as a coping mechanism.

In that strange, incredible, unimaginable moment, Mabel recalled holding her grandfather’s hand as he murmured nonsensical things on his deathbed. He kept saying that he was going on a trip, but he wasn’t packed or ready, that he couldn’t leave yet. Mabel was only eleven at the time and didn’t really grasp the significance, but she eventually came to understand that her grandfather, though not really there mentally, recognized he was dying and that his brain was trying to help him cope with the impossible.

Mabel was not dying, however, although she thought that perhaps she was already dead (she felt rather weightless, and the scenario she found herself in seemed entirely out of the question for her, so what explanation could there be other than there being an afterlife she didn’t even necessarily believe in? Did people who were in love with their siblings even _get_ a happily ever after(life)? Mabel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to overthink it), so when Dipper pulled his sleeve back over his wrist and pulled it against his stomach, looking away with adorably flushed cheeks, it occurred to Mabel that he probably shouldn’t have been moving in slow motion, but he was. It was like she was falling, and she was in that split second right before you hit the ground where everything moves so slowly it almost seems like time is frozen completely. 

She’d been right. He’d been planning on showing her his soulmark. And she was… no, no. That’s not possible. It had never occurred to Mabel that Dipper could be her soulmate and she had therefore never done any research, but how could it be possible that she and Dipper shared a soulmark? She’d never heard of such a thing. As far as she knew, the general consensus on incest was… unfavorable, to put it mildly. Sure, technically speaking, all soulmate couples were legal provided both parties were of age, but she’d simply never considered the possibility that incestuous soulmates would have ever even come up.

The only logical conclusion was, of course, that she had misinterpreted what she saw, and that while Dipper _did_ have a soulmark (and the skin surrounding it wasn’t red and irritated the way it usually was with newly formed soulmarks), it most certainly was _not_ a match with hers, although it was similar enough to be mistaken for hers upon first glance. 

No. Of course it wouldn’t have matched Mabel’s soulmark. She was the freak, after all. Dipper was normal, and he had a normal soulmark just like everyone else, and he probably knew who his soulmate was, and he was gonna start dating her and move in with her in one of the government-funded Young Adult Soulmate apartments, and they’d get married right out of high school or maybe even right away, and they’d have their first kid of many right after college, and Mabel would be left trying her hardest to be kind to the soulmate-turned-wife-turned-mother-of-Dipper’s-children and the lucky bitch would get to touch Dipper in a way that Mabel never would and he’d look at her in a way he’d never look at Mabel and Mabel would babysit their children while Dipper and his wife/soulmate (who was decidedly _not_ Mabel) went on dates and came home all lovey-dovey and they’d have sex like all the time because soulmates always had sex all the time and _oh god_ if his soulmate was seventeen already then Dipper would’ve… he already would’ve… oh god oh god oh god no she didn’t wanna picture that, anything but that, _no-_

There was the sound of a quiet, gasping breath of someone who was very clearly crying, but it wasn’t until Dipper’s head whipped around to look at Mabel with wide, shocked eyes that she realized her cheeks were wet and the sound had come from her own throat.

Dipper blinked at her, surprised, and all Mabel could think of was if the makeup was waterproof or not, thanking of how furious Candy would be if she knew Mabel had ruined her friend’s Sephora eyeliner and mascara by crying, before remembering that yes, it was indeed waterproof, much her relief.

“Uh…” Dipper’s voice was awkward and squeaky and _ugh stop being so fucking adorable you fucking asshole._ “Why… why are you crying?”

Mabel took another watery breath. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

Dipper stared at her dubiously. “No, I don’t think you are, so please tell me why you’re upset.”

Mabel whimpered and shook her head, wisps of hair flying around her face as she did so. 

He ran a hand over his face (which bore a remarkable resemblance to a tomato that had been genetically engineered to make it as red as possible) and tugged on the hair hanging over his forehead. 

“Look, I know… I know that I’m not what you wanted, or what you pictured in a soulmate,” Mabel’s eyes shot up from her hands in her lap to his face. _What_? “But, I mean, would, y’know… would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Mabel couldn’t speak at all. “I mean, I was pretty surprised, too, when I found out, but I was also really, really happy, because there’s no one I’d rather have as my soulmate than you, and I get that the whole twincest thing is pretty gross to most people so it’s fair if you feel that way, too, of course, but even so, I… I…” 

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before speaking again, his voice stronger and surer. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I feel like it’s just been building up for years and after we hit seventeen I couldn’t keep holding it in, and I had to tell you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry. Mabel, I…” he looked at her, something intense and crazed and _alive_ swirling in his eyes, and his voice returned to a whisper again. “Fucking hell, Mabes, I burn for you so goddamn badly that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me.” There was a severity to his voice despite the whisper. “I’ll give you the fucking world, I swear, I’ll give you anything you want. So I’m gonna ask again: would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?”

The tears hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t even slowed. He opened his mouth to speak again (it seemed that once Dipper started with the whole revelations thing, he couldn’t really stop), but Mabel cut him off.

“How long?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d finally said something. “Huh?”

“How long have you known?”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

“I’ve had my mark for as long as I can remember, Dipper,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You must’ve had yours for just as long. _How long have you known_?”

He buried a hand in his hair, blushing to his roots again. “Remember that time when we were Skyping and mom left you alone for a minute and you showed me your soulmark? Yeah....”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was… that was _three years_ ago!” Mabel’s voice was still quiet, but then she exploded. “Do you… do you have any idea, any fucking clue, the slightest goddamn inkling, how much agony I’ve been in? Do you have _any_ idea at all?”

Astonished by his sister’s rage, Dipper shrunk back. “Uhh… no?”

Mabel was fuming. How dare he keep something so important from her? “You… you… you bastard! I have been in love with you for years! Years of guilt and pain and… and misery just because I loved somebody I felt like I shouldn’t, but whoops, guess it turns out it wasn’t even my fucking fault, was it, it’s just that my absolute dickhead of a brother or a soulmate or whatever the fuck you are now, he just decided not to tell me, or he forgot, or some other bullshit!” Her voice was shaking, and she was cursing way more than she normally did. Dipper, for his part, looked properly guilt-stricken. “Anything else, asshat? Anything else you’d like to share with the class?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. 

She was still crying, but they were angry -furious, really- tears. His face was frozen in shock, however. “You… you’re in love with me?”

Mabel blushed too, and forced herself to stay angry despite the adorably dopey, astonished, thrilled expression on his face. “So what? That’s not the point here,” she snapped. 

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, still in shock. “Really? Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure, but again: that’s not the point here!”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, he just kept staring at her, an elated expression on his face. “You’re in love with me,” he said again, his dopey smile growing.

“Yes, I’m in love with you, get over it, Dipper!” She actually raised her voice at that point. He certainly wasn’t absorbing her words any _other_ way. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Now then, is there anything else I need to know?”

He blinked, recognition returning to his eyes as if he’d been snapped back into reality. “Well, I guess there are some things you should probably know…”

“Well? She snapped after a few seconds.

“Well, uh… apparently, siblings being soulmates isn’t that uncommon, and usually siblings who are soulmates are actually twins, so it’s not like we’re super unusual or anything.”

“Great to know I’m not a freak of nature. Thanks so much for telling me as soon as I started feeling that way,” she said sarcastically. 

“Err… sorry,” he mumbled. “There’s also, well… I mean… I’ve done a lot of research on why soulmates are who they are, so…”

“Uh huh. Go ahead, then,” she said with a wave of her hand, having done minimal research herself. 

“Well, you see, it’s determined by…” he murmured the last part so quietly she couldn’t hear him. 

“What’s that?”

He told a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “It’s determined by emotional compatibility as well as capability for physical attraction, and physical compatibility, which obviously means, um…” she raised her eyebrows at him. “Which obviously means… y’know. Sexual compatibility.” He coughed uncomfortably. “It’s also determined by who can help the other person have the healthiest kids possible. Even kids that are born from incestuous soulmates are usually healthier than unrelated non-soulmates.”

Sex. Sex with _Dipper_. Dipper on top of her, underneath her, _inside_ her. Images from dreams and fantasies flashed in Mabel’s mind, but she pushed them away as firmly as she could. She was still pissed at the dickbag, after all. 

Oh, but children with Dipper. _Their_ children. Together. Fucking hell, she’d never truly let herself consider that long enough to want it, but once she thought about it, she wanted it so badly she thought she might start crying again. 

_No_! Shoving those thoughts from her mind, too, Mabel scowled at him.

“Anything else?”

He sighed. “Well… our parents have known our whole lives.”

“ _What_?”

He nodded. “Why d’you think they kept us apart, or fed us that allergy bullshit? We’re not allergic to each other, they just didn’t want us touching ‘cause we’re soulmates.”

“And I assume you’ve known that for years, too?”

He nodded again.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, staring out the window briefly. She needed to escape. She needed to escape him or she’d throttle him. Undoing her seatbelt with shaking hands as more tears threatened to fall, Mabel unlocked the car door and threw it open. 

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?” Dipper questioned as she stood up, heels digging into the cold, wet grass.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she told him flatly before shutting the door behind her and walking off. 

To her horror, she heard the driver’s side door open behind her, sneakers touch the ground, and the close of the car door.

“Mabel!” He called out, and she could tell he was jogging over to her. Dammit. Just as she was about to get to the edge of the clearing and escape into the woods, too. “Mabel, wait,” he’d reached her side. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he told her, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“For one thing, you took off your coat earlier and you didn’t put it back on and it’s way too cold for you to be walking around in jeans and a shirt, no matter how…” he shuddered, his eyes raking over her. “No matter how incredibly attractive you may look.”

Squashing down her joy at the compliment, she kept eyes on her feet. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Tears caught on her eyelashes as she blinked. She felt so conflicted. She was so angry with him, but she wanted nothing more than to nestle herself into his arms. She wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to whisper her adoration in his ear. She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to kiss him. She was thrilled beyond all measure at the prospect of being his soulmate, but she was also terrified beyond belief. She’d never been so conflicted in her life. 

“Mabel,” he said her name quietly, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like she was the answer to every question that had ever been asked in the history of the world. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I was scared of what our parents would do, but more than anything, I was so, so petrified you wouldn’t want me.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, tears still flowing freely as she kicked at the grass. “We’re soulmates. I have no choice but to want you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh? We want each other no matter what.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she snapped. 

“I can’t help it. I love you, and I’m just… I’m so fucking happy you love me back.”

“Idiot,” she said again.

“Yup, that’s me. I’m an idiot,” he agreed, still very clearly grinning like he’d won the goddamn lottery. Raising her gaze to his to glare viciously at him, she found herself startled by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was, and- _no, no, still mad, remember_?

Noticing she’d been crying again, she supposed, he took a step towards her, hand outstretched. “Mabel, I really am sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

She backed up faster than a Smart Car trying to get away from an eighteen wheeler. “N-no!” She stuttered out. “Don’t touch me!”

If he got any closer, she didn’t think she’d have been able to stop herself from whacking him.

He stopped, hurt clear in his eyes, and lowered his hand. “It’d make you feel better if I held you,” he told her softly.

“I don’t care,” she snapped again. 

“I do, though. You’re angry and hurt and I caused it. Please let me fix it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hit you if you come near me,” she warned.

“That’s okay. Hit me if it’ll help,” he took another step, this one slow, as if she were a wounded animal he’d found in the wild and was afraid he’d scare away. 

All of a sudden, the fear that had been pushed out of her mind in place of her anger came rushing back. He’d never touched her before, and she was _petrified_.

He stepped closer to her, and time seemed to slow down again. When he finally reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she felt as if the universe would collapse in on itself.

She couldn’t hold her sobs in, so she didn’t, and she couldn’t really seem to keep her fists from pounding against his chest, either. He was so warm, and he was being so goddamn _sweet_ , and in that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being.

He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just letting her hit him. Not that it was particularly hard, of course; it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest. She looked up at his stupid, idiotic face to tell off his stupid, idiotic ass again, just for good measure, and when she did, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb.

It was the first time his skin had touched hers in as far back as either of them could recall.

And then, suddenly, she remembered something about soulmates who hadn’t, y’know… _consummated_ things yet: skin-to-skin contact flipped what was essentially an aphrodisiac switch that had a tendency to make both parties lose a fair amount of self-control.

It was probably an evolutionary mechanism meant to encourage reproduction as quickly as possible. In all actuality, though, it was just a pain in the ass.

Mabel subconsciously pressed her body against Dipper’s. The arm that was still around her held her tighter, his hand traveling into her hair.

“When’d you get so tall?” She wondered as she looked up at him. Her burning anger had given way to a different kind of burning altogether. 

He shrugged. “Kinda happened… gradually, I guess?”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, playing with the fabric of his coat and staring at her fingers. 

“Mabel?” His voice was soft, and she looked back up at him questioningly. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Images flashed through her mind with lightning speed again. “Yes,” she whispered. 

With a slowness that was downright _agonizing_ , Dipper placed his hand on Mabel’s cheek (to hold himself steady as much as her, but don’t tell either of them that), leaned down, and gently, ever so gently, pressed his lips to hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP! Their first kiss! Also, some important notes:
> 
> • the aphrodisiac effect doesn’t work if the individual genuinely does not want to have sex with their soulmate. It simply lowers inhibitions and makes you horny af. But if there’s hang ups about sex or if you just don’t want to, you would still be able to recognize that.  
> • most soulmates who find out they’re soulmates by the time they turn seventeen have sex right after they’re both seventeen because the urge to do so is so strong. Mabel and Dipper have been seventeen for four months by the time this takes place. That’s a lot of build up.  
> • yeah, they’re kind of obsessed with each other. Welcome to being in love at seventeen. Shit, I’m still like that with my boyfriend and I’m nearly twenty-six.


	8. On the Subject of Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags, they’re there for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t read this in public. It’s very NSFW. 
> 
> Thanks again to Edward-or-Ford for being my beta!

Chapter Seven: On the Subject of Falling 

_I feel you crawling out my veins, leaving the walls inside with flames, burning the emptiness I’ve saved, until only you remain. And then my lungs collapsed and you pulled me out, forever I have changed. Honey, you can take me now till it all runs out; baby, it’s okay. -_ Cartel, Only You

Mabel had imagined so many scenarios for her and Dipper’s first kiss that she couldn’t have counted, named, or described them all if her life depended on it. 

Her fantasies had never been reasonable. Why be reasonable when imagining something you felt sure was impossible?

But Mabel had been wrong. It wasn’t impossible, because Dipper was kissing her in the softest, sweetest way she ever could’ve dreamed up, cradling her cheek so gently she might have been made of porcelain.

He pulled an inch or two away from her, rubbing his nose against hers affectionately. 

“That was… nice,” she said quietly.

He smiled in agreement. “Was that your first kiss?”

Blushing, she nodded. “W- was it yours, too?”

“Of course,” he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve known you were my soulmate since before girls would’ve ever considered kissing me, and even before I knew, I definitely wasn’t interested in anybody else.”

“Oh,” she was somewhat lost for words.

“Yeah. So…” he trailed off. 

“So…?”

“So, maybe we could try kissing again?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay,” she agreed, squashing down her nervousness.

When his lips touched hers again, there was something different. Something had changed, but she didn’t know what. He just felt so warm and so _good_ , and she wanted -no, she _needed-_ more of him. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and bury her hands in his hair and just- just fucking _maul_ him.

Pressing her body against his instinctively, she hooked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Moving her lips against his (did people usually learn so fast? Mabel didn’t know, and she was fresh out of fucks to give about it), she tilted her head and opened her mouth slightly, and then his tongue touched hers. She gripped his hair lightly, putting his hand on the small of her back and pulled her against him, and she moaned quietly.

Well. She most certainly had not been expecting _that_. Nor had she been expecting to feel what must have been Dipper’s erection so quickly. They’d barely kissed at all, and homeboy already felt hard as a rock. 

Pulling away slightly, Mabel coughed awkwardly. “So, uh… what’s up with, y’know. That?” She gestured in the general direction of his crotch.

He looked at her dazedly for a moment before the question clicked in his head. “Oh! Yeah, um… sorry, it just kinda… happens sometimes, like when I’m really happy, or when I think about you too much or look at you for too long or… do anything involving you at all, really.”

“R-really?” When he nodded, she examined his expression. “So it happens a lot, then?”

“Yeah, it does. Sorry about that, I can’t really control it most of the time.”

Mabel blushed and looked down. “Well, I mean… I don’t really, y’know… mind it…”

“You don’t?” He sounded very surprised and it probably showed on his face, but she was way too embarrassed by how much she liked the fact that the mere thought or sight of her turned him on to actually look at him, so she didn’t look up. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh. Okay then.” After a few seconds, he spoke again. “So, can we maybe make out or something?”

Oh. Right. He wanted her, didn’t he? How could she have forgotten that? Pressing herself back against him, she pulled him down to kiss him again, this time with all the pent of desperation she’d felt towards him for years.

He froze for a few seconds, and then he buried his hand in her hair and yanked her tighter against him, kissing her with just as much desperation. His tongue found hers again, and her need for him was increasing higher and higher, and she was burning, burning, burning, all for Dipper, she was gonna burst into flames from how badly she needed him, she was sure of it. Had she always needed him this badly? If he’d kissed her sooner, would this have happened then, too? All she could think was _more, yes, Dipper, more_. She let out a needy moan as he pulled his lips away from hers and trailed them across her jawline and down her throat, where he began to suck on her pulse point. She gasped, clutching at the back of his jacket.

He slid a hand under the hem of her shirt, yanking it away when he felt his cold her skin was. “You’re freezing,” he observed. “I… I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

“Oh, um. It’s okay, I didn’t really notice either,” she laughed awkwardly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and looking briefly at her feet before turning her gaze back up to him. “But… maybe you could keep me warm,” she said softly, then backpedaled, embarrassed at her boldness. “I mean, only if you want to, you obviously don’t have to, and I don’t mean to, like, make assumptions or anything-“

“Mabel,” he cut her off, kissing her briefly. “Of course I want you. How could I not?”

She shrugged, blushing furiously. “I… I dunno, I guess I figured you might not…”

He shook his head and took her hand, guiding it to the front of his jeans. “Feel.”

“Y-yup, sure do feel that right there,” she stuttered. 

“I always want you,” he said quietly, pressing his lips to hers again and reaching around to grip her ass. “Fuck, you… you drive me insane, you know that? One day you’ll dress all cute and the next you’ll dress like you’re actively trying to seduce me.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry?” Her voice was squeaking far more than she would’ve liked, that was for sure. Oh well. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway.

He nodded, a serious expression on his face as he squeezed her. “Even really basic stuff like these jeans. They’re so tight they’re like a second skin, and every time I see you wearing, well, anything really, all I want is to rip it off you. It’s been really, _really_ difficult to keep myself from touching you.”

“I’ve been wanting to touch you, too,” she whispered. 

He squeezed her again, and she whimpered at the sensation before he kissed her. Pulling away from her after a moment, he took her hand and led her towards his car. 

“Where are we going?”

“To warm you up,” he said over his shoulder, a mischievous smile on his face.

A few moments later, they were buckled into their respective seats, and Dipper was putting the car in drive. Mabel waited approximately thirty seconds before she couldn’t take it anymore and needed to touch him again. She was losing her mind. In fact, her mind seemed to have vacated the premises entirely. How could she be expected to think when he wasn’t touching her, when she couldn’t feel his skin against hers? It simply wouldn’t do. Her body felt achey and strange in a way she didn’t really recognize, but she could tell, at the very least, that she was experiencing some extreme form of sexual arousal. She needed him inside her. Like, pronto. Stat. _Immediately_. Why wasn’t he inside her yet? She suddenly couldn’t remember, and all she cared about was convincing him to pull over and rip her clothes off.

She was hurt and aroused at the same time, which was a very weird combination, but she felt something twist in her chest. Didn’t he want her? He’d said he wanted her, so why hadn’t he pulled the car over and fucked her senseless?

Well. She’d just have to seduce him then, wouldn’t she?

Thankfully, the armrest console in Dipper’s car was quite small, so there wasn’t a whole lot of space between their seats, and as such, when Mabel leaned over and started kissing his neck and trailing her hand into his lap, she had no difficulty doing so.

“Mabel,” he said stiffly, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. “What are you doing?”

“I want you,” she told him, reaching down to stroke him through his jeans.

“I- I know,” he stuttered. “I want you too, but I need you to wait. It’ll be just another couple of minutes.”

She shook her head and sucked on his neck. “I want you _now_.”

They stopped at a red light, and Mabel had undone her jeans, grabbed his hand and put it between her legs. 

“Do you feel how wet I am? Do you feel how bad I need you?” She asked, grinding against his fingers. He pulled them away and wiped them on his jeans, starting the car again as the light changed. “Please,” she begged, starting to tear up. “I need you, Dipper,” she was whimpering, desperate for him, and her thought processing had all but ceased completely. “Please fuck me,” she begged again, kissing his neck as the tears trickled down her cheeks, and he nearly swerved off the road. 

“Okay,” he said, shooing her away with a wave of his hand. “I really want you, too, which is why we need to get to the motel, and I will definitely kill us if you pull something like that again, so you’re banished to your seat until we get there in approximately a minute and a half,” he took a deep breath before continuing, which may very well have been more to distract himself than anything else. “I know in my mind that your… behavior is normal. It’s just kind of a thing that happens in these types of situations, y’know? I can preoccupy myself with driving, but you’re just kinda stuck with nothing but what you’re feeling, so try to… try to distract yourself, maybe?”

“Motel?”

“Yeah, the one Mom and Dad booked a room at for the whole stay, remember?” he reminded her. “They haven’t been staying there since the first night or two. That was definitely to keep an eye on me, by the way,” he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “They suspected something, I guess. Didn’t wanna risk me trying to get you alone.”

“Oh,” she was surprised, and the gears in her brain were struggling to turn so she could process his words. “So… they know you know we’re soulmates?”

“Hm, maybe,” he said thoughtfully. “I think they’re more suspicious than anything else, honestly,” he paused for a moment before continuing. “In any case, stay in your seat.”

She pouted the rest of the way, and by the time they pulled into the motel parking lot, they were both just about ready to explode, and as soon as they were parked, they practically sprinted in the direction of their room (thank god the doors were outside and not inside), Dipper fumbling with the key card while Mabel started kissing whatever parts of him she could reach without the equality brought on by sitting down, which was namely his arms and chest, and she was finally getting to grab his butt (and she was fairly sure it was the most long-awaited butt grab in the history of butt grabs, so she was entirely convinced that any amount of happiness that it caused was perfectly reasonable).

They stumbled into the room, Dipper locking the door absentmindedly, and he leaned down to kiss her, but she just edged him towards the bed, and her purse and jacket fell from his hands to the floor (side note, but when had he grabbed those? She hadn’t even noticed. Fuck, he was so sweet and thoughtful and she loved him so goddamn much), and he sat on the bed, although it was really more of a fall than anything else, and Mabel immediately proceeded to climb on top of him. 

Dipper buried his hand in Mabel’s hair and ground his hips up into hers. Her legs were on either side of him, and when she moved herself against him, he let out the most adorable little whimper (though she got the sense he’d never own up to it in a million years).

Her lips hovered over his, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him again, so she did. He reached around her back and- well _hello_ there, Dipper’s hands, never felt you on the ol’ booty before. But there they were, his fingertips digging into the flesh as he gripped her, encouraging her to move against him.

He kissed her neck, sucking at it wetly, and in any other circumstance she’d object, but in that moment, all she could think was, _yes, yes, I’m yours, mark me up, mark me, I’m yours, oh Dipper yes just like that_ -

Gasping and moving her hips faster, more firmly, he moaned against her lips, palming her breast through her clothes before stopping abruptly and pulling away.

When Mabel groaned at the loss, he looked at her guiltily. “Sorry, I, well. I’ve never done this before and I’m afraid I’ll rush you or hurt you or something.”

She blinked at him, the gears in her mind struggling to turn as she attempted to force herself from her arousal-induced haze enough to form a coherent sentence.

“I’ve never done this before, either, and I know you won’t hurt me.”

“B-but do you, y’know. Want to?” he sputtered out. “With me, I mean?”

“No, I want it with Gideon,” she said sarcastically. “Of _course_ I want it with you, ya dumb-dumb. Did you totally miss how into it I’ve been or something? Or maybe you forgot about the whole soulmate thing and how inevitable it is that we get super duper hot for each other?”

Dipper blushed and looked down for a moment before looking back up at her. His gaze was intense and burning like there was a volcano inside him that could erupt at any moment. “If we do this... his whisper trailed off as he stroked her cheek, “if we do this, you’ll be mine, y’know.” Mabel blushes furiously. _She’d be his_. “There‘ll never be anyone else. Just... just me. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Why in the hell would I ever want anyone else?” she demanded. 

He grinned. “Can I kiss you again?”

She smiled adoringly at him. God, what a _relief_ it was not to have to hide her feelings for him! “Well, get on with it,” she said with a grin. 

He attacked her again, his lips and pelvis connecting to hers. “Fuck,” he gasped out as he thrust himself against her.

Her hair was a curtain around them, and she didn’t really notice when it happened but their shirts fell to the carpeted hotel floor, and so did her skirt, and yup, those appeared to be her leggings on the floor, too. When did all that happen? Mabel wasn’t sure, but she certainly had no complaints.

Especially not when Dipper was running his hands up and down her sides, warmth seeping into her skin, and kissing her like the planet was gonna explode in the next ten seconds. She hadn’t kissed anyone before Dipper, but she’d never imagined it would be quite so... hungry. She’d assumed kissing would be soft and sweet. The first few had been, sure, but this one? This one was like he was starving, like it’d been years since his last meal and she was the only thing saving him from certain death.

And it felt _good_. She would happily go to the ends of the earth as long as he kept kissing her like that. As long as he didn’t stop touching her. 

If kissing Mabel felt, for Dipper, like a starving man eating for the first time in years, then kissing Dipper felt to Mabel as if she’d been lost all her life; that everything had been so incredibly, irrevocably _wrong_ until that very moment, and that finally, after a lifetime of emptiness, everything was right with the world in a way she’d never known was possible.

Kissing Dipper felt right. It felt like home. The scent of his hair and his blunt fingernails scraping against her scalp and his gasps and groans and pleas and whispers, especially the ones he tried to hide- they all felt like home. It occurred to her then that Dipper -her soulmate- was her home in a way nothing else was or ever could be. 

And so she kissed him back with a ferocity that might’ve scared them both under different circumstances. But it didn’t. In fact, it seemed appropriate. They were finally, _finally_ together, and Mabel didn’t feel the slightest hint of her airway swelling closed the way their parents had said it would if they touched. In fact, Mabel was fairly certain she’d lose breathing capabilities if they _stopped_ touching.

Why else would she only be able to inhale if their lips were pressed together? She ground her hips into his again.

“M-Mabel,” he gasped out. She didn’t respond verbally, just hummed against his neck and went back to kissing it, continuing to move her hips back and forth. He felt so _good_ against her. When was the last time she’d been so wet? She couldn’t remember.

“Mabel,” he said again, putting his hands on her hips to still her. She pulled back, eyes hazy and face flushed. “If you keep doing that, this is, uh,” he coughed and looked away, his face furiously red, “this is gonna be over really quickly.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few seconds before her eyebrows shot up in understanding. “Oh! G-gotcha. My bad,” she laughed awkwardly, smoothing down her hair nervously.

“But, I mean. That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna, y’know. Keep going... “ he trailed off before quickly amending his statement. “If you want to, that is.”

She blinked. “I literally told you I wanted you earlier. It was, like, five seconds ago.”

Dipper looked dubiously at his wristwatch. “Actually it was-“

“Yeah, no one cares. Just kiss me again, nerd.”

He smiled and complied, kissing her hungrily, desperately. She buried a hand in his hair, moving her pelvis against his erection again, her panties embarrassingly wet as she moaned quietly.

“Dipper,” she whimpered. “Dipper, please.”

He gasped when she ground down particularly roughly against him, barely aware of anything but Mabel.

“Huh? Wh-what is it?” he managed to stutter out. 

“I need it,” she told him desperately. “I need _you_ ,” she rubbed herself against him pointedly. 

“God, Mabes,” he moaned as she kept moving her hips back and forth. “ _Fuck_ , anything. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Somewhere between bold and embarrassed, she buried her face in his neck. “I want you,” she reiterated, then reached down to stroke him through his boxers. “I want your cock,” she whispered. “I want it inside me,” he groaned again, quieter this time. “Make love to me, Dipper. Please.”

“Anything you want,” he told her again, gently removing her from his lap. Each made remarkably quick work of their remaining undergarments.

Dipper couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to look at Mabel’s breasts or vagina (which she was incredibly relieved she had shaven), but Mabel’s eyes were fixed on his erection. 

It was... larger than she was expecting. He was kinda tall, but he was also really skinny, so... But then, those didn’t really have a whole lot of correlation with size, did they? Mabel didn’t know. She also didn’t know how he was expected to shove that thing up inside her. Her body was screaming _yes yes yes put it in put in right now holy fucking hell I need that inside me right now_ , but her brain was very skeptical.

Her body won out, though; every cell that she was made of was trying to force her to climb on top of him again and kiss the living daylights out of him. 

Actually, what sounded rather good was... “I wanna suck it.”

“Wha-what?” he sputtered.

She looked up at him. “I wanna suck it,” she repeated. “I wanna taste you. I want you in my mouth.”

He ran a hand over his beet red face. “Fucking hell, Mabel. I mean, I... I want that, too,” he raked his gaze over her, his eyes settling on her lips. Was he imagining them wrapped around his cock? She hoped he was. “I really, _really_ want that. But right now, I feel like if I don’t fuck your brains out, I’m gonna explode. And... not in a fun way, either.”

 _Actually_ , Mabel thought, _that’s a pretty dope-ass idea right there_. Laying down on the bed as quickly as she possibly could, she spread her legs open for him. “Then come here and fuck my brains out,” she challenged quietly.

He was on top of her in seconds, mouth practically attacking her, covering her with kisses on her neck and face and lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull.

Hooking her legs around him, she tried to guide his hips towards hers. She needed him more than she’d ever needed anything in her life. If he didn’t get inside her right then, she’d die. She was sure of it. 

Fuck, would he get her pregnant? She hoped so. She wanted him to get her pregnant so fucking bad. She wanted him to fill her up with so much of his cum that it spilled out of her, and then she wanted him to fill her up again and again and again until she was pregnant with his child. _Yes, fuck yes, Dipper’s child, god she wanted it so bad_ -

He stopped kissing her, wrenching himself away, she felt a rush of cold air as he did so, and an agonizing sense of loss. Why had he pulled away? Didn’t he want her? Why didn’t he want her?

And then he was rummaging through his jeans for his wallet, and pulled out a packet.

“A... a condom?” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. 

“Yeah, I... I mean, we can’t have you getting pregnant.”

“No, don’t!” she sat up abruptly. “I’m on birth control anyway, but I wish to all hell I wasn’t because I really want you to get me pregnant!”

“Mabel...”

“Please, Dipper! You said you’d give me whatever I wanted! You promised!” she begged. 

“Yeah, but... I mean... you don’t really want that, I don’t think...” he trailed off, fidgeting with the condom packet. 

“Don’t you want to get me pregnant? I want you to fill me with your cum and put your baby inside me, and then I want you to fuck me again and again and again.” She knew she was being irrational. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to him to fuck a baby into her, dammit. “Don’t you want that, too?”

He groaned, turning his flushed face away from her. “Of course I do, Mabes. I _desperately_ want that. And someday, I will, I promise I will, okay? I swear, but we can’t right now. Not yet.” He ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it on. “I’m so sorry, I know you want it, and I’ll give you everything else, but I can’t give you that yet.”

“Soon, though?” She asked as he climbed back on top of her. 

“Soon,” he agreed with a nod.

“Fine,” she conceded.

Satisfied for the time being, she pulled him in for a kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. 

“I love you, too,” she said with a smile. “Now please, Dipper. Please put it in me.”

He leaned his forehead against hers as he pressed the tip into her, one hand supporting himself and the other grasping her breast, pinching her nipple. 

She gasped, and he stopped, pulling back to look at her. “You okay?” He ground out.

She nodded, eyes clenched shut. “Y-yeah. Just... go slow, please.”

“Okay,” he agreed, pressing a gentle kiss to her brow.

He pressed into her further, perhaps half an inch at a time before she made him stop and wait several minutes. Jeez, wasn’t the vagina supposed to expand with arousal? Why was it taking her so damn long to adjust to him? Maybe it was his size? She wasn’t exactly a large person...

When he was finally seated fully inside her, his head was resting against her shoulder, and he was trembling against her from the effort he was putting in not to move.

“Kiss me,” she told him softly. He complied without hesitation, lifting his head to kiss her fiercely, putting every ounce of the passion he was holding back into their kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. Gripping him tightly, Mabel moaned quietly. “You can... you can move now.” Where had her confidence gone?

He did, and _oh god, how could it be so incredible_? He filled her up like he was fucking _made_ for her, like their bodies had been specifically designed to fit together, and something clicked in her mind and she just knew what to do somehow, moving her hips against his.

“D-Dipper,” she gasped out, spreading her legs wider.

“You okay?” He asked again. “D’you want me to stop?”

“Stop? Are you fucking-“ She cut herself off before continuing. “Stop and I’ll murder you.”

“O-okay,” he stuttered. “It... it doesn’t hurt, then?”

“It feels fuckin’ _awesome_ , bro,” she told him, yanking him down for another kiss.

“Good,” he murmured against her lips, thrusting into her with a gentle slowness.

“Does it feel good for you, too?” She asked between quiet gasps.

“Yes,” he said immediately. “You feel so...” he groaned, thrusting again, and leaned his forehead against the space between her neck and shoulder. “You feel so warm and tight and and wet and I just... fuck, Mabes, I’m sorry but I can’t-“

He didn’t finish his sentence and the words hung in the air around them: _I can’t stop or control myself_.

“Then don’t,” she responded to his unspoken words. “I don’t want you to.” He groaned again, clenching the sheets in his fists, and she could tell he was still trying his damnedest to keep his pace slow and gentle, which was not at all what she wanted.

“I said I don’t want you to,” she reminded him, wrapping a leg around him. “I don’t want you to hold back or try to control yourself.” He pulled back slightly to look at her, his face flushed and eyes desperate. “You said you wanted to fuck my brains out, Dipper.” He whimpered slightly, his thrusts shallow and slow still. “So do it.”

He pulled out of her slowly, and then slammed back into her with a force that surprised her, kissing her with the type of desperate hunger that builds up over years of pining after someone you fear you’ll never have. 

“Yes,” she gasped against his lips. “Oh, fuck yes, Dipper, fuck-“ her words were cut off with another harsh thrust that caused her to emit a loud moan.

“Say my name again,” he growled. 

“Dipper,” she moaned again. “Harder, I want it harder, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-“

“Anything you want,” he told her again, pounding into her as roughly as he was able. “Fucking hell, Mabel, anything you want.”

“Just you,” she kissed him desperately, like the world was about to end and they had mere seconds left to live. “I just want you.”

“I- fuck, I love you so much, wanted you, wanted this, for so long, fuck,” he was babbling, thrusting into her as hard as he could, and she was meeting each thrust with her hips.

“I love you, too,” she moaned against him.

“You’re mine,” he growled into her hair, increasing his pace, which was already quite rough. “I’ll- I’ll never let you go. Never.” Kissing her with surprising ferocity for a kiss that only lasted a few seconds, he pulled back just enough to speak, their lips still touching. “Say it,” he demanded, fisting a hand in her hair. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Mabel nodded vigorously, wrapping an arm around his back and meeting him thrust for thrust. “I’m yours, Dip, I- I swear, I’m all yours.”

Growling again, he pulled her up, sitting up himself and situating her in his lap. Locking her hands behind his neck, she started to move her pelvis back and forth.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” at his encouragement, she started to move her hips faster. “ _Fuck_ , that’s good.”

Mabel wanted more things than she could count in that moment. She wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to cover her body with hickeys, she wanted him to suck her breasts, she wanted him to keep fucking her _-fuck yes, just like that_ -, she wanted the condom to break and her birth control to fail and for him to fill her with his cum and get her pregnant and-

He clutched at her hips with a bruising grip, encouraging her to move in the way he wanted, then ran one hand up her spine. Arching her back and neck away from him, her breasts lifting up off her chest slightly, and he reached up to squeeze one.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasped, leaning forward to take her nipple into his mouth. Mabel cried out, fisting a hand in his hair to keep him against her. 

“Di-Dipper,” she whimpered, moving her hips as he thrust up into her. “Please don’t stop.“

Clutching at the back of her neck, he lifted his mouth from her nipple (which he had been sucking so hard that she would later see in the mirror and notice he’d given her a hickey there). “I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll fuck you whenever you want, just... just don’t ever leave me.”

She pulled him up for a kiss. “How could I?”

Holding her tighter and thrusting harder, he leaned his head against her shoulder. She wanted to melt into him. She couldn’t get close enough. She’d never be close enough to him, no matter how much he touched her, how much she touched him. 

Putting his hands on her waist, he guided her away from him so there was space between their bodies, and reached down between them to where she was moving against him. She was already extremely sensitive, so when he started to rub her clit, she couldn’t contain her scream.

“Yes, baby,” he growled against her neck. “Scream my name. Scream my name and cum for me,” he rubbed her clit harder, faster, thrusting up into her in time with his fingers. 

“Dipper! Fuck, give it to me harder!” Her voice was somewhere between a moan and the scream he’d wanted, and he fucked her harder than she thought possible in response.

He kept rubbing her clit until her body shook and her toes curled, and she cried out his name again, and then he pulled his hand away and gripped her ass, guiding her pelvis to meet his thrusts, which were getting shallower and harsher at the same time, and it occurred to her just then why he’d wanted her to cum so badly: because he was about to himself. 

“Mabel,” he gasped out. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

“Yes, Dip, fill me up, gimme your cum, I want it, I want it so bad, please-“ fucking hell she hoped the condom had broken, she wanted more, more, more, she wanted him to fill her till she was dripping, she wanted-

His hips stuttered a few times, and he slammed into her again once, twice, a third time, before collapsing against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

After a few seconds, he moved to help her off his lap, but she tightened her legs around him.

“Not yet,” she told him quietly. “Don’t pull out yet. I wanna stay like this for a little longer.”

“Okay,” he was pressing gentle, loving kisses to her neck, particularly on the bruises he’d sucked onto her neck. She kept her arms wrapped around him for a few moments, playing with the hair at the back of his neck before he looked up at her, looking tired and elated and like the most lovestruck person she’d ever seen. 

“I’m sorry I was so... rough,” he said, blushing. Damn, would his blush ever get less adorable? (Hint: no. No it would not.)

“Um... you know I legit _asked_ you to be, right?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Y-yeah, but even so, I shouldn’t’ve-“

“Uh, no,” she cut him off. “You _absolutely_ should’ve, and you should definitely do it again later, too.”

His blush deepened. “Okay, well... I’m sorry I got so, um. Possessive, or whatever.”

She blinked at him.

“I... didn’t really expect that. I mean, I’ve read that it happens sometimes, and that you can pretty much lose all control of yourself, but I guess I don’t think it would be... quite so severe...” he trailed off uncomfortably. How could he be so uncomfortable when his dick was literally inside her vagina? Like. Get some perspective, bro. 

“I liked that, too,” she said bluntly. “Like. A lot. A _lot_ a lot.”

“R- really?”

“Are you kidding? It was, like, the sexiest thing ever. Honestly, 10/10 would recommend,” she grinned. 

“So, just to be clear,” he said slowly, “you don’t mind the whole, y’know. Me saying you’re mine and... all that stuff?”

“Why would I mind?” She asked with a light head butt. “I’ve always been yours, ya big ol’ idiot.”

His face was beet red at that point, and he looked down, only to find that his eyes landed on her breasts, and yup, that was... that was most definitely a hickey forming on her nipple right there, and, oh god, did he do that? He was pretty sure he had, and the craziest thing was he was pretty sure she’d been really, really into it.

“I’ve always been yours, too, Mabes,” he told her quietly.

She held him tighter with a happy squeal. “I love you, Dip Dip,” burying her face in the crook of his neck, she whispered, “I could spend a million years with you and it would never feel like enough time. I could be with you like this a million times and I’d never get enough of you,” she teared up at that point, overcome with emotion. “I’m so in love with you it hurts.”

He wrapped his arms around her, savoring the feeling of her hair against her bare back, her chest against his, the way she looked in the dim light of the hotel room. His love for her was overwhelming sometimes.

He lifted her tear-stained face up to look at him, stroking her cheek adoringly. “I’m in love with you, too, Mabes,” he kissed her lips briefly. “I’ll do anything to make you happy, to see you smile. To keep you with me,” he kissed her again, like he was sealing a promise, “anything.”

She cried harder and kissed him again and again. She never wanted to be separated from him for the rest of her life. Hell, if there was anything after that, she wanted to be with him then, too. She wanted everything, _everything_ , with this stupid boy. Her dopey, adorable, dorky twin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they banged. What’d you guys think?


	9. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t do it in the shower, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waking up sucks. Waking up with your twin/soulmate sucks less.

Chapter Eight: The Morning After 

_If I said I want your body, would you hold it against me? Seven in the morning, wanna listen to Britney; anything you want, baby, that’s okay with me, now. We don’t sleep, but we like sleeping in._ \- All Time Low, Sleeping In

Mabel had to pee, but she really, _really_ didn’t wanna open her eyes. Or move in any way, shape, and/or form. She was warm, covered in a soft comforter, and her mattress was just the right amount of firm and squishy. She snuggled into her bed with a soft smile, and then her head hit something that was _way_ warmer than her bed or pillows. 

Strangely, it felt like there was bare skin against hers, and… she didn’t appear to be wearing any panties. Or a shirt. She usually wore a shirt and panties when she slept, didn’t she? Was she misremembering that? She didn’t typically misremember her own habits, but she had certainly been wrong before.

Forcing her eyes open, Mabel came face to face with Dipper, who was asleep. And upon seeing his face (which was both way more attractive and way closer to hers than it had any right to be), everything came rushing back.

_“I’m in love with you-“_

_“I burn for you-“_

_“I’ll give you the fucking world-“_

_“I want your cock.”_

_“Anything you want.”_

_“-and put your baby inside me-“_

_“I want it harder-“_

_“Tell me you’re mine.”_

Face inflamed, Mabel very slowly extracted herself from Dipper’s arms (he stirred, but continued sleeping), grabbed her purse, and tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

The cold tiles stung her bare feet, but she peed and washed her hands anyway, wishing there was some kind of bath mat. Preferably a fuzzy one (a pink one, perhaps? Yes, a pink one would spice up the all-white bathroom nicely. And some lovely pink towels to match, too).

Glancing up at herself in the mirror as she dried her hands on a towel, she was startled by her appearance. 

There were hickeys, well. Everywhere, really, but it seemed like Dipper has primarily focused his attentions on her breasts and neck. She didn’t mind the hickeys. She rather liked them, actually. What she _didn’t_ like was how bad her hair and makeup had gotten in her sleep. She didn’t even remember falling asleep, really. She and Dipper had been cuddling, and at some point he pulled out and threw the condom away, but he came right back to cuddle her again and then she was waking up.

Her hair was a frizzy mess, so she undid the braid and ran her fingers throughit to work out some of the knots. She’d been pretty the night before. She wanted to be pretty when he woke up, too.

Or, at least, as pretty as she could be without makeup. 

It was really just her eye makeup that was bad rather than the whole thing. She had raccoon eyes. That happened whenever she slept with eye makeup on.

Taking out several makeup remover wipes, she scrubbed at her face with them until nothing came off on the damp, white cloths anymore. She didn’t look as nice without makeup, but, well, Dipper was her soulmate, right? Her soulmate would find her attractive no matter what. 

Mabel hoped he would, anyway. 

She stared at herself in the mirror for a few more seconds. What would their parents say if they saw her? Obviously they wouldn’t see _all_ the hickeys, but they’d definitely be able to see a fair amount of them unless she invested in turtle necks. They’d been keeping this huge thing a secret from Mabel and her twin for as long as she could remember. How would they react if they knew that the metaphorical cat was out of the metaphorical bag? Why had they kept it from them to begin with? Did they think that Mabel and Dipper were gross, disgusting, maybe even sinful?

Not that they were particularly religious people (in fact, Mabel has never even heard them mention their personal views on religion, let alone if they believed in a specific one), but even so, maybe they were so disgusted by having children who were soulmates that they would rather see them suffer apart than be happy together? Was that it?

Mabel wasn’t sure, and she didn’t know what to think. She loved her parents. She’d always thought she’d had a great relationship with them. Had she been wrong? She must have been, if they’d been lying to her and keeping her from her soulmate for seventeen years. Did they even love her or Dipper at all, even a little?

Feeling agonized and conflicted, Mabel pushed her parents from her mind, grabbed a wash cloth off the towel rack, and opened the clear door of the walk-in shower. There were two knobs, each helpfully labeled, so she turned them to her desired setting and stepped back to let the water heat up.

She looked down at the soulmark on her wrist.

Her soulmark. 

Dipper’s soulmark. 

_Their_ soulmark. 

Mabel still didn’t really understand how this could’ve happened. Had she really had it all her life? And if she’d had it all her life, then so had he.

She ran her thumb over the lines; they were raised just a little, like the lines on a tattoo. Soulmarks couldn’t be imitated with tattoos, though. They had a… a shine to them, an iridescence. They didn’t sparkle, exactly, but if Mabel turned her wrist, light would reflect off of it in the strangest way. 

She’d always hated her soulmark. As soon as she was old enough to understand what it was and what it meant for her, she hated it. Not so much that she’d cut it from her body the way some people did, of course, but she certainly wasn’t a fan. 

But being with Dipper made it seem kinda beautiful, in a way. She wondered how he’d felt about his, knowing they were soulmates for so long but thinking she wouldn’t want him. Had he hated it, too? Did he still?

There was steam forming on the shower door, so Mabel stepped inside, leaning her head back to get her hair wet.

The more she thought about it -him knowing that they were soulmates but thinking she wouldn’t want him, that is-, the more she thought that that was a really fucking stupid idea. Like. Where had he even come up with that? Had he never seen soulmates touch each other for the first time? _Everyone_ had seen soulmates touch each other for the first time at least once! Everyone had also seen soulmates be super lovey-dovey, ‘cause that’s just kinda how soulmates tended to be. It was a universally accepted fact. 

She rubbed the motel’s boring, scentless conditioner into her hair and left it to sit as she washed her body with their boring, scentless bar of soap.

It was, like, a biological imperative, or something like that. He was the science nerd. Didn’t he know all that stuff? Mabel felt like Dipper should know all that stuff. He’d been talking like he knew a lot about such things before. He’d mentioned, like, studies and stuff, she thought, but she’d been pretty out of it at the time so she could have definitely been wrong.

Once her body and washcloth were clean and the conditioner was rinsed out, Mabel lathered shampoo into her hair and rinsed it out, too. She ended up using most of both bottles. Whoops. There was a little left in each, at least. Oh, well. 

She was rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair when she heard the bathroom door creak open.

“Eek!” Squeaked Mabel as she turned around abruptly, reflexively covering her body with her hands and the washcloth, both being their own unique brand of useless in that regard and therefore not covering anything of note at all. She was slightly less alarmed when she saw it was just Dipper, who was also naked, and that was…

Mabel did not claim any level of expertise on male anatomy, but she was pretty sure that that was a boner. It certainly appeared to be a boner. As in, it was most definitely Dipper’s dick (side note, she still was unsure how he’d managed to get it in her and why it had felt so good because it looked like it would hurt her more than anything else), and it was sticking out, which… they don’t typically do that when they’re just kinda, like, chilling, right?

He smiled at her, and she forgot all about his boner. His smile was just _heavenly_. Even more so whenever he deigned to direct it at her (bless her with it, more like).

“Can I…?” He gestured in the direction of the shower.

“Oh! Y-yeah, of course! I’m done anyway,” she hung the washcloth up and was gonna get out, but he opened the shower door.

Mabel glanced down briefly. She couldn’t help it. He was naked, and she’d spent so much time admiring the way his body looked and moved that it was fascinating in a whole bunch of different ways. And also sexy, so there was that. 

_Oooooookay_ , she thought to herself. _That’s a dick. That’s a dick pointing right at you. It’s just… it’s right just there, man. Stay calm, stay cool, dicks don’t bite_. 

“Wha-wha-what’s up?” She stuttered out. So much for “cool”.

He grinned again, and Mabel thought she might burst into flames, and she vaguely noticed the water droplets spilling out onto the tile, and-

“I meant if it’s okay if I shower _with you_.”

“Oh!” She blinked rapidly, startled. “Oh. Okay… then,” stepping backwards a bit to let him in as he closed the door behind him. It was strange, but despite knowing the fact that he’d seen (and touched, kissed, and even sucked, and also literally been _inside of_ ) her body, she still kinda felt the urge to cover herself up. She squashed it down, though. 

He leaned over (and subsequently closer to her, but his eyes were shut when he did so) to wet his hair, and reached for the shampoo. “Sorry, I used most of both bottles,” she said quietly.

“Eh, that’s fine, I don’t really need a whole lot,” he told her as he squirted the remainder of the shampoo into his hand.

“Y’know, it’s actually better for your hair to use conditioner first and then leave it in while you do everything else, because tha-“ she was babbling. She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t really help it. He was naked. She was naked. They’d _both_ been post-coitus levels of naked and all up against each other for, like, hours! After a lifetime of not touching, too! Surely a bit of nervousness was warranted, right?

“Mabes,” he cut her off, affection in his eyes as he quickly and methodically rinsed his hair out (how had he already finished washing it? Dafaq?). “I don’t really… I mean, I don’t think most guys use conditioner.”

“O-oh,” she seemed to have difficulty forming coherent thoughts, and therefore coherent sentences, as well.

When the last of the shampoo bubbles had been rinsed from his hair, he looked down at her again and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous.”

“I- I am _not_ nervous!” she informed him indignantly, lurching away slightly, but only slightly, honest. If she said it to him like she believed it, maybe that would make it true. (Note: No. No it would not.)

“Yes, you are,” he said matter-of-factly, lathering up the washcloth with the bar of boring-as-all-hell soap and washing his body in the same quick, methodical way as his hair. “It’s okay. I kinda like it.”

“Well, even if I _am_ nervous,” she crossed her arms over her chest (which was still bare, and he could _see_ it, how bizarre), “it’s perfectly reasonable. How are you _not_ nervous?!”

“Oh, I am. I’m actually pretty terrified right now,” he rinsed out the washcloth and grinned at her again. “I’m just better at hiding it than you are.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You are not!”

“I definitely am. Case in point: you,” he gestured to Mabel, “me,” he to himself. “Case closed.”

“Hey,” she said, sticking a finger in his face as he turned himself this way and that beneath the water to let the suds run down his skin and- _no, no, focus_! “Hey,” she repeated. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been pretending you don’t make me feel embarrassed or nervous or scared out of my mind for years, and I was so good at it that you were under the impression I wasn’t interested in you at all despite being so in love with you I thought I’d explode, so I’d say I did a pretty damn good job, thank you very much!”

“Hm, that’s a good point,” he said thoughtfully, reaching down to brush her wet hair from her face. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“You wouldn’t have needed to wonder if you’d just told me the truth,” her voice was quiet, and it was difficult even for her to hear it over the sound of water hitting tile. “I was waiting for you to find your soulmate, y’know. I’d just kinda accepted that I’d have to watch you fall in love with somebody else, and I’d be stuck keeping my feelings for you a secret.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, his voice just as soft, stroking her cheek. “I was scared, and I was so sure you wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me -not like that, at least-, whether we were soulmarked or not.”

She shook her head, her wet hair moving about her face in thick strands. “I’d have fallen in love with you no matter what, Dipper.” Then, after a moment: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to,” he told her quietly. “I _really_ wanted to. But I also didn’t. I was scared you wouldn’t want me the way I want you. Wouldn’t love me the way I love you.” He was silent for a moment, staring at her with a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite name. “Wouldn’t you have been scared, if you had found out first?”

She looked away from him then. “I- yeah. Yeah, I probably would’ve been,” she said with a nod. “I mean, you _still_ scare me.”

He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “I- I- _what_? Why do I scare you?”

“Because I love you,” she told him simply, as if she’d been pointing out the snow on the ground or the clouds in the sky. “More than that, I’m _in_ love with you.”

“You’re scared of being in love with me?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m used to being in love with you. It’s not new. But this is much… it’s bigger than I thought it was, y’know? Like, yeah, I’ve been in love with you for years, I know how to handle that. But I never expected anything to actually come from it.” She took a breath before speaking again, staring at the floor, the way the spray from the shower ricocheted off their feet. “It never occurred to me that my soulmate might be you, that that’s why I couldn’t control my feelings for you better. I just…” she sighed. “I thought I was a freak. I thought there was something wrong with me. I’ve thought that for so long and now I’m finding out it’s totally normal, what I’ve been feeling all this time, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her gently, sincerely. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. I hate that I did. I wish I’d… I dunno. I wish I’d done something differently.”

She sighed again. “Honestly? I don’t know if I’d have done anything differently than you did, if it had been me. I might’ve done the exact same thing.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Still wish I hadn’t done it the way I did.”

“So do I,” she said quietly. “We could’ve been together like this a lot longer.” Startled at herself, she backtracked. “N-not necessarily like _this_ ,” she gestured vaguely around them, her eyes wide. “Just, y’know. Like. In general. Together in general.”

He smiled, laughter in his eyes at her fumbling, and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, leaning down to press his lips to hers. She brought her hands up to hesitantly rest them on his sides, which were bare because he was _still fucking naked holy shit that’s right_ -

Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, he backed her up against the cold tile of the shower wall, becoming increasingly desperate in how he kissed her.

“I- I’ve wanted you since I woke up,” he told her, moving down to suck at her neck and gripping her breast roughly.

“I want you, too,” Mabel gasped out. He reached down between her legs and stroked her slit a few times before pushing a finger inside her. She gasped again, clutching at his arm, her fingers digging into his skin, and leaned her head back against the tiled wall. He added another finger, slowly pumping them in and out of her, and her fingers tightened on his arm when he started to rub her clit with his thumb.

He hadn’t stopped sucking at her neck, and he moved his fingers faster and faster, causing her to whimper and struggle to stay standing. How did he know exactly what to do to her to make her squirm? How was he more in tune with her body than she herself was? Mabel didn’t know, didn’t understand how he could touch her so perfectly that she was ridiculously close to orgasming already, but he was doing it.

Her legs began to shake, and he moved back up to kiss her. She could feel his erection pressing against her, and he was twisting her nipple and moving his fingers even faster, and she was so close, so _fucking close_ -

“Dip-per,” she gasped against his lips, and he nodded. 

“That’s it,” he told her. “Cum for me, Mabes.”

She cried out as she did, and when he pulled his fingers out of her, she winced at how sensitive she still was. She could feel her heartbeat throughout her body. It _had_ been a particularly good orgasm, after all. 

  
She was slumped against him, and she heard the shower raining down on his back. He ran a hand up her side, kissing her forehead lightly. 

“I love you,” he told her softly.

“I love you, too, Dip.”

He pulled away slightly, smiling contentedly and stroking her cheek.

After perhaps two minutes or so, Mabel remembered Dipper’s very much still present erection. _Ah. Right,_ she thought. Well, first time for everything and all that.

Lowering herself to her knees (the tile might’ve felt colder if she hadn’t pretty much been out of the water for… however long he’d been in there with her, which, unbeknownst to either party, was really only about ten minutes), Mabel discovered that, as it turns out, dicks, like most objects, appear larger the closer one is to them.

This made perfect sense, of course, but despite knowing this, Mabel was still quite alarmed at the evidence leading to this particular observation. Like, she knew it had already gone inside her (which… _how_ , exactly?), but it was still somewhat alarming to see it up close.

The aphrodisiac effect of touching for the first time had worn off the night before, so while Mabel was aroused, it wasn’t so overwhelming that she entirely forgot about the logistics of _how in the actual fuck is that supposed to fit in a person’s mouth_ , et cetera. Still, though, despite being rather intimidating, it was… it was… it was _his_ , Dipper’s, and she very much wanted to touch him. 

“You… okay?” Dipper asked from above her, when she’d been staring at his junk for a solid minute and a half. 

“Yup!” She said too quickly, the squeakiness in her voice echoing off the tile far too much for her liking.

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to, y’know…”

“I know!” She said, also too quickly, before backtracking. “It’s just, well. I’ve never actually, like, seen one up close, so I don’t really… know what to do with it…”

“W-well,” he coughed uncomfortably. “You could… touch it. If- if you wanted?” He voiced it like a question, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer or not. 

“Okay.” Yeah, touching’s fine. She could do touching. She could totally do touching. Easy-peasy.

How did guys…? Reaching out hesitantly, Mabel gently wrapped her palm around his shaft, his wet pubic hair brushing against her hand. It was much harder than she was expecting, but also weirdly squishy. How could something be hard and squishy at the same time?

“You can- you can squeeze it a bit harder,” he said breathily. Harder? Wouldn’t she hurt him? Well, he’d tell her if she hurt him, so maybe she should just… 

Squeezing his shaft elicited a gasp from him, so she kept the pressure up and moved her hand up and down it a few times.

“Is this okay?”

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, so she kept going, moving her hand faster. Something pearled at the tip, and Mabel had the strangest desire to taste it, so she licked it. Dipper let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, so she licked the tip again, this time swirling her tongue around the head before taking it in her mouth.

One of his hands threaded through her hair gently, and when she looked up at him, he rested his head on an arm against the tiled wall, his other hand clenched into a fist.

Mabel attempted to take as much of him into her mouth as she could, but it really wasn’t very much. She did, however, manage to gauge what she could take and what she couldn’t, so when she began to slowly move her mouth along his length, she didn’t have much difficulty stopping where she needed to.

Dipper was making these kind of breathy gasps, like he was struggling to inhale, so she moved her mouth faster, as fast as she was able.

“F-fuck, Mabel,” he moaned her name quietly, but it reverberated against the tiles. She kept moving her mouth over him, but took him a bit too fast, it seemed, because her teeth grazed him and he yelled. “T-teeth,” he squeaked out. 

“Ooumsowy,” she said around him, the words coming out poorly. Whoops. Oh well.

Pulling her lips to cover her teeth to avoid anything further dick-scraping situations, she sucked in her cheeks experimentally, just to see how he would react, reaching up to squeeze one of her breasts in her hand, pinching her nipple and moaning around him. His grip on her hair tightened a bit, just enough for her to feel a slight tug on her scalp, and he jerked his hips forward involuntarily.

He hit the back of her throat, and she choked, tearing up, and she looked up at him again. 

“Shit, sorry,” he said breathily. Mabel didn’t mind, though. She liked that he hadn’t been able to control himself. Thinking about him losing control, losing himself because of her, what she was doing to him, she moaned around him again, pulling at her nipple and taking him as deep as she could, as fast as she could. His breathing was getting faster, and he really seemed to be getting off on her moaning, so she moaned again, and again, bobbing her head back and forth. 

The sounds he was making were so insanely sexy Mabel thought she was gonna lose her mind, and she wished she could take him deeper without gagging because quite simply, she wanted every inch of him in her mouth and was thoroughly dissatisfied that she couldn’t manage it. Still, though, he seemed to be enjoying himself. She was gazing up at him, her lips stretched around his cock as she moaned and fondled her breast, and he was looking down at her with this look in his half-lidded eyes she couldn’t put a name to. 

It was like he was seeing her for the first time even though they’d known each other all their lives, like she was everything, _everything_ to him, the way he was everything to her. She wasn’t going very fast, as she was still quite inexperienced, but he was moaning and gasping and whimpering and breathing her name and fisting her hair and looking at her like she was some kind of goddess and then-

And then he yanked himself away from her, and there was a string of saliva between the head and her mouth that was broken as he leaned back against the shower wall, gasping. The water hit her face and she sputtered, scrambling backwards.

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered, clearly out of breath.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” She asked, somewhat concerned.

“What? No! No, not at all,” he reassured her, offering her a hand to help her up. She took it, and he pulled her up against him. “That was… I mean, that was awesome, it really, _really_ was. It’s just I wanna do, uh. Y’know. Other stuff, too.”

Okay, so maybe she had just been sucking his dick, but she still felt like his face was _way_ too close to hers, so it took several seconds for what he said to process in Mabel’s mind. “You mean, you wanna, like…?”

“Only if you want to,” his smile was a small, adorably embarrassed one, and it made her heart flutter and the bees act up.

When she nodded silently at him, he leaned down to kiss her softly, reaching around to turn off the water. He pushed the shower door open and stepped out, pulling her out after him. She tripped a little and giggled at her own clumsiness. 

They were gonna have sex for the second time (the _second_!), and Mabel was feeling downright giddy just from thinking about it. 

“What’re you giggling about, giggles?” he was smiling affectionately at her as he handed her a towel before proceeding to dry himself off.

“Nothin’,” she smiled back at him, squeezing her hair out with the towel before moving it over her body (she didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her breasts and legs when she toweled them off). “I’m just happy, is all.”

“Yeah?” He stepped towards her again, cupping her cheek with his hand, and leaned down to kiss her.

“Yeah,” she murmured against his lips. 

“Me, too,” he kissed her then, one still-damp hand finding her equally damp waist, and she wound her arms around his neck, water droplets from his hair trickling down her skin.

It was stranger kissing him out of the shower while they were still wet than it was kissing him in it. She was cold, but in a different way than she’d been when they’d been outside, and she was more… present. Her mind was all there, 100% right there with him. Her head wasn’t in the clouds; she could think clearly. 

At least, as clearly as was possible when one was having their second-ever non-solo-and-not-a-dream sexual encounter and that sexual encounter just so happened to be with one’s soulmate/twin brother. 

Either way, she was doing a-okay overall. In any case, he was still kinda dripping, and so was she because although they had dried off, everyone knows that the only way to really get dry is with time, and Mabel was most certainly _not_ up for waiting until they were adequately dry to lay on the bed without getting it all wet and icky.

He was kissing her neck, and definitely sucking some more hickeys into her skin (because apparently the right side of her neck was not adequately marked upin Dipper’s eyes, it would seem), and she ran a only-a-teensy-little-bit-shaky hand up his back, which, _eek still bare still bare he’s still naked still naked_ -

“Dip,” she gasped his name quietly, and he hummed against her neck in response. “We probably shouldn’t… ah, that feels… mmm… we probably shouldn’t lay on the bed, but I want…” she trailed off, too embarrassed to express just how badly she wanted him inside her. She could only vaguely recall, and, uh. She wasn’t having that. She wanted the memory of how he felt inside her to be so vivid she could recall the sensation at a moment’s notice.

“We can in here,” he told her, pulling her bottom lip gently between his teeth and pressing himself against her.

“I- in here? Is that even a thing?”

“Mhm,” he hummed against her neck again. 

“How does that work?”

“I’ve, uh,” he coughed, pulling away from her slightly. “Seen it done.” Translation: porn. He’d seen it in porn.

“Riiiiiiight…” she trailed off. “So, again: how?”

He kissed her softly and reached for her hand. “C’mere.” He pulled her in front of the mirror, which was still too fogged up for her to see anything but the vague shapes of herself and him standing behind her. And then-

And then he pressed another kiss to the hollow of her throat, right over where he’d sucked a bruise into the skin there the night before. He was pressed flush against her back, and he’d put both hands on her hips, trailing one up her side and then around to squeeze her left breast, pinching her nipple as he did so. She gasped, leaning her head back into him.

“Touch yourself, Mabes,” he whispered in her ear before continuing to suck her neck and pull at her nipple. She could feel him, hard against her lower back, and she slowly lowered a hand between her legs. “Put your fingers inside for me.”

She struggled with this from the angle she was standing at, but if she bent down a little, she was able to just… it was nothing like him. He’d filled her perfectly, and in comparison, her fingers fell woefully short.

“There you go,” he encouraged in that soft, sexy voice that she wanted to drown in, reaching up to grip her other breast, giving it the same attention as the right. She gasped again, a sound that was almost his name, but not quite. “Open yourself up for me. Pump your fingers in and out.”

She did so, and it felt good but it wasn’t enough. She wanted _him_. “D-Dipper,” she whimpered, the syllables of his name struggling to emerge from her throat.

“Mmm?” He was grinding himself against her, pulling and twisting her nipples.

“Please,” she begged.

“Tell me what you want, Mabes,” he told her softly, almost yanking at one of her nipples as she continued to move her fingers inside her. 

“You,” she was practically sobbing, she needed him so badly. “Please, Dip, I- I want you inside me so bad. _Please_ ,” she begged.

“Anything,” he promised. “Anything you want.” He removed his hands from her breasts, and she whined quietly at the loss. “Bend over and put your hands on the counter.”

She pulled her fingers out and did as he said. Dipper reached down between her legs to find where her entrance was, and she whimpered again as he touched her.

“Dip,” she whined, desperate for him. 

“I know, sis, I know,” once he found it, he put his hands on her hips and thrust inside her and-

 _Holy fucking shit_ if she thought he was deep before, she had no idea what she was talking about, because what he was doing was, like. Next level deep. She squeaked, because she 100% had _not_ been expecting that. 

“Fuck, Mabel, this is- fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting into her again.

“It feels good,” she whimpered, and then yelped when he thrust into her again. “Ummf!” Another thrust. “That’s- oh fuck, Dipper, please don’t stop,” she was begging him again. She knew she was. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. As long as he didn’t stop, the sky could fall and the sun could explode for all she cared.

He thrust again, his hips slapping against her ass. “Why-why would I-“

“Harder,” she whimpered, clenching her fingers against the counter. He obliged, and Mabel couldn’t contain her screams. They echoed off the walls of the bathroom, mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

“Scream for me, Mabes.” Mabel did, and he groaned, slamming into her. “Fuck, that’s so hot. I love it when you scream like that. All for me. Tell me it’s all for me.”

“A-ah,” Mabel gasped, struggling to speak because the dude was just. He was just not letting up. “All for you, Dipper.”

“You’re so beautiful, so sexy, I- I love you,” he gasped, punctuating his words with a thrust. “I love you,” he said again. 

“I lo- mmmmmf just like that, yeah- I love you too.” Her arm was flat against the counter, and she was leaning her forehead against it, her eyes clenched shut and her mouth open slightly.

He pulled back a bit too far at one point, accidentally pulling out of her. “No!” She exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at him desperately. “Come back, put it back, bro bro, _please_!”

He realigned himself with her, slamming into her again, and her body jolted with the force of it. She cried out, startled at how rough he was being. He leaned forward, resting his chest against her back, kissing her neck and as he snapped his hips forward. 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded softly, kissing her neck again. Mabel reached between her legs and started rubbing her clit with a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a gasp. “There you go,” he encouraged, pulling back up and thrusting into her again.

Mabel was whimpering quietly, which seemed to spur Dipper on, because he pounded into her furiously until she was screaming for him again, just the way he liked. He let up a bit, emphasis on a bit, because he was still gripping her hips hard enough to bruise (which, _yes yes yes his fingerprints bruised into her hips fuck yes_ ) and, for lack of a better term, fucking her senseless. 

“Rub yourself faster,” he gasped out. She did as he told her, focusing on the feeling of him moving inside her and the sound of his moaning. Everything about him, _everything_ , was just so unbelievably sexy it should’ve been illegal.

She felt herself clenching around his cock, and when he groaned at the sensation, she knew she was getting close. Rubbing herself as fast as she could with him slamming into her like there was no tomorrow, she managed to get out a few words, “Dip I’m- I’m gonna-“

“Good girl, that’s it,” he praised, fucking her harder. At his words, Mabel convulsed for a half a second, and then her body froze, her mouth hanging open. Dipper never stopped thrusting into her throughout her orgasm. 

She was shaking afterwards, trying to catch her breath, her whole body sensitive and tingly. But he didn’t stop, he just kept going. Not that she minded, of course. It was just she was sensitive as all hell.

She was whimpering, gasping quietly, and he was going faster and faster, until-

He pulled himself out of her with a jerk and a groan, and Mabel was concerned for a split second because it almost sounded like he was in pain, or this weird mix of pleasure-pain, and she winced at the loss of him (how had she gone her entire life feeling so utterly _empty_?). There was something warm and wet trickling down her back, and she realized he’d just cum on her, and shivered at the thought, because _his cum was on her skin oh god Dipper’s cum was on her skin._

“Shit,” he muttered, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. It was… nice to think that it was _her_ who’d made him so out of breath. “Stay there, lemme… lemme get that for you.”

“Huh?” She was dazed; his words weren’t really sticking. She barely registered the sound of the sink being turned on, even though it was right next to her, or the shower door opening and closing again a few seconds later. A warm, wet cloth was being rubbed along her back and some on her butt, even.

“There you go,” came Dipper’s voice after a minute or so (not that Mabel could’ve pinpointed the time it took him, of course). “Uhhh… you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m good. Sorry, kinda out of it,” she pushed herself up from the counter. 

He laughed awkwardly, looking away. “That’s… probably my fault.”

“It’s okay,” she told him softly, turning and falling into his arms, her bare chest against his. “I liked it.”

“Me, too,” he smiled, kissing the top of her head “let’s go lay down, okay?”

Mabel nodded.

He led her to the bed, an arm around her waist. Once she’d plopped down, he grabbed their respective underwear, and his shirt, and he was looking around for hers, too, when she reached up and snagged it from his hands, along with her panties. 

“Gimme those,” she said, pulling on her panties and then yanking his shirt over her head. She grabbed it in her hand and brought it to her nose, breathing in deeply. _Ah_ , she thought. _Dipper smell_. 

“Uhh… Mabes,” he said awkwardly, pulling his boxers over his narrow (and incredibly sexy, if she were being honest) hips. “That’s… that’s my shirt.”

“No doi,” she told him, laying down and patting the space beside her. “Imma wear it. Suck it up, buttercup.”

“...kay.” He got in bed next to her, and she rested her head between his chest and armpit, smiling as he wrapped an arm around her and kissed the crown of her head affectionately.

“I love you, bro bro,” she told him softly, snuggling up against her. 

“Love you, too.”

Mabel couldn’t have said exactly how long they stayed like that, peaceful and content, somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness. It was perfection. It was heaven.

Until they heard the door to their room open, and their parents walked into their little haven. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUN!
> 
> Also, this is a PSA: vagina-havers should pee after penetrative sex! Mabel doesn’t because it’d be kinda weird to add that in, but you 100% should because it prevents UTIs, and those are a bitch.


	10. The Choices We Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro tip don’t bang in your parents’ hotel room if you don’t wanna get caught
> 
> Thanks, as always, to Edward-or-Ford and Pacific_Ship!

Chapter Nine: The Choices We Make 

_I don’t wanna spend another moment without you again. Just tell me, tell me how to keep this so it never ends._ -Nothing More, If I Were

She didn’t notice when the door opened. It wasn’t her fault, honestly. Dipper was giving her this… this _look_ , and then he was kissing her, which was at kinda a weird angle with her laying on his chest the way she was, but she was into it anyway. 

Then, there was a scream. Not a “stop tickling me, dammit!” scream, or an “eeeek I just saw a spider kill it kill it kiiiiillll iiiiiiiiit” scream.

No, it was the type of scream you scream when somebody you love gets murdered right in front of you. The kind of eardrum-damaging, gut-wrenching, stomach-dropping, heart-attack-giving, oh-god-what-did-I-just-see type of scream where you just witnessed something so simultaneously devastating and horrifying that you can’t do anything _but_ scream.

So, obviously, Mabel and Dipper were what could only be described as ‘hella startled’, and turned their heads towards the door, their lips still very much in kiss-mode.

Their mother was still screaming. Her purse had fallen to the floor, and she had one hand fisted in her hair, clutching it so tightly that Mabel wondered for a second if perhaps she’d pull out a part of her scalp.

Their father rushed forward, as if somebody had pressed play on him, or maybe even fast forward. Dipper squeezed Mabel’s hand tightly, as if to reassure her (Mabel wasn’t sure anything could’ve reassured her just then, though) and got off the bed. Mabel didn’t want to let go of his hand; she feared that if she did, she’d never get to touch him again. 

There had to have been a reason their parents kept them apart. Mabel had always been under the impression she had an open, honest, loving relationship with her parents. 

Evidently not.

They’d lied to her about a vital part of herself for longer than she could remember.

And she’d fallen for it. How had she fallen for it? For so long, she’d believed them, whatever they told her. 

Had _any_ of it been true? Anything at all? What else had they lied about?

Mabel had forgotten about their parents’ deception for awhile, too preoccupied with being in Dipper’s arms. 

And also possibly with Dipper’s dick.

Okay, so she was _definitely_ too preoccupied with Dipper’s dick to think about anything else. 

Well. They’d seen that the truth was out. Maybe they’d accept it. What else could they do?

Except no, because their dad was trying to pull Dipper away from her, and their mom was sobbing hysterically and picking up Mabel’s clothes. 

“Here, honey, just put these on, okay-“ Mrs. Pines said shakily, holding Mabel’s clothes out to her on the left side of the bed. 

Mabel scooted closer to where Dipper stood to the right of the bed. “No, go away! You’re interrupting, could you, like, leave?” Mrs. Pines flinched as if Mabel had slapped her. “How did you even find us, honestly, like-“

“Your brother left a bunch of pillows in his bed to make it look like he was still asleep, and you weren’t at Candy’s, and when your father looked in his wallet he found Dipper had taken his hotel keycard, but he certainly didn’t take mine, so where else would you have been?” She was murmuring frantically, like her mind was racing a mile a minute. 

Mabel scoffed. “You lied to me and Dipper for years, for our entire goddamn _lives-_ “

“Language!” Mr. Pines snapped. It was the first thing he’d said, and it made something in Dipper snap, apparently.

“L- language?” he sputtered furiously. “You’ve been keeping me from my soulmate since we were babies and now that you see we’re together anyway, you’re worried about us using _profanity_?” Mr. Pines’ eyes narrowed at Dipper, and maybe that would’ve worked to shut him up if he weren’t so royally pissed off. “No. Fuck that,” Dipper said fiercely.

Mrs. Pines was opening and closing her mouth, and very much resembled a fish. “Come on, Mabel, let’s get you home-“ she was saying frantically. Mabel reared on her mother, and was about to tell her exactly where she could shove it, when Dipper spoke again.

“She’s not going anywhere,” he snapped over his shoulder. “She’s staying with me. We’re going to be together. I’m not going to let you take her away from me again because of your- your- your dumbass ideas of what you think we should be or what you wanted us to be, or whatever.”

Mrs. Pines was attempting to push Mabel’s clothes into her arms again, and Mr. Pines was meeting Dipper’s furious glare with one of his own.

“We’re taking her with us back to California,” Mr. Pines said, in a dangerously calm voice. “If you fight back, I’ll have you arrested for assault.” It was hard to tell if it was a bluff or not. Was it a bluff? It didn’t seem like one, but evidently they were infinitely better at lying than originally thought, so it was hard to say. 

Suddenly, a horrifying fear gripped Mabel. She knew it was probably irrational, but in that moment, she felt sure she’d never see Dipper again if she walked out of that hotel room. A life without Dipper? But… how- no, that couldn’t happen. She couldn’t just never touch him again, never kiss him again. But even so, she felt sure that if she left, that’s exactly what _would_ happen, and she’d be forced to live a Dipper-less existence for all time.

“No!” she gasped out, feeling the tears starting to fall, and scrambled up onto her knees on the mattress and throwing her arms around Dipper’s neck from behind. He reached up with one hand and stroked her arm affectionately. 

“No,” she said again, her voice quieter. “Don’t let them take me away from you, Dipper,” her face was pressed between his bare shoulder blades, and _god_ , but he smelled so good, even then. “Please, I- I love you so much, I never want to be without you again. Please,” she was sobbing now, her hands dropping to hold shakily onto his shoulders. 

“Can’t we… can’t we live together? You don’t have to even see us together, or at all, if you don’t want, just…” he trailed off for a moment, putting his hand over where Mabel’s lay, still shaking on his shoulder. 

“You can’t get an apartment unless we sign off on it,” their father pointed out, the sound of his voice mixing with the sounds of Mabel’s sobs. “And we won’t.”

“Why not?” Mabel asked tearfully. Both parents pursed their lips and didn’t respond. “Don’t you love us? Don’t you want us to be happy?”

“Of course we love you, sweetie, of co-“ their mother was cut off abruptly by Dipper. 

“If you love us, then none of this makes any sense,” he said. “If you loved us, you wouldn’t have kept us apart our whole lives.”

Mrs. Pine twitched for a second before she spoke. “You’re just sick, Dipper, that’s all, we can get you help for that, really, it’ll be okay-“

“We’re not _sick_ , mom,” Dipper told her angrily. “We’re in _love_ , and there’s nothing wrong with us being in love. She,” he pointed to Mabel, “is my soulmate, and I want to be with her.”

“Regardless,” Mr. Pines cut in, ”you will not be receiving any help from us on that front.”

“Well,” Dipper said in that voice he does when he’s racing through a million options a second. “We could live with Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, then, they’ll take us in, they practically _raised me_ while you were forcing Mabel and I apart needlessly-“

“And why, exactly,” Mr. Pines cut in, “do you think they took you in to begin with, son?” He leaned closer, just barely. “To keep you away from your sister. They won’t help you.”

While agonized over that apparent betrayal, Dipper moved past it quickly, his voice hardly shaking. “Well… mom has family on the East Coast, doesn’t she? I’m sure some of them will-“

“They won’t,” Mrs. Pines cut in flatly. “Sibling soulmates are about the worst thing two people can be to my family.” When the twins turned to face her, astonished (she _never_ talked about her family), she spoke again. “My mother hates soulmates. Especially soulmates she sees as morally wrong. When my uncle found his soulmate and introduced my mother to his new boyfriend, she…” shaking her head as if to force out some awful memory, Mrs. Pines went on. “They won’t help you. Don’t contact them. You’ll only put yourselves in danger.”

“D- danger, what-“ Mabel was astonished, too much so to form coherent thoughts. Was _that_ why she’d never met her grandmother?

“So… your brother, then!” Dipper’s voice was hopeful, desperate. There had to be a way. There just had to be. “He’s used to so-called unusual soulmates, right? He’ll take us in-“

“ _No_ ,” their mother said fiercely. “You are not to contact any members of my family. _None_ of them. Do you understand me?”

Her tone was unlike anything either twin had ever heard from her before. They were so startled by this that they didn’t even consider arguing. 

There was no one. They had no one in their family who would accept them and love them for who they were.

They were alone. 

Mabel looked up at Dipper then, and said shakily, “can’t we like… run away together or something? I’d rather live under a bridge with you than in a house without you.”

Dipper sat down next to Mabel on the bed, and she could see in his eyes that he was sorry, which meant she wouldn’t like his answer. He never would’ve considered that, though, would he? He couldn't go that far, couldn’t expose her to that kind of risk. He was done fighting their parents. Crushed, she leaned into him without really thinking about it, sniffling against his neck.

“It’s only for a few months,” he whispered into her hair with a light kiss. She was clutching at him, and she couldn’t seem to stop crying. Her chest was hurting from it, but she still couldn’t stop.

“I- I don’t want that,” she whimpered.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “But we need to go along with what they say so we can be together later, okay? As soon as we turn eighteen, we’ll be together. We’ll be together before senior year, even.”

“But I wanna be with you nooooooow,” she whined, and he chuckled miserably.

“I know, Mabes, I know,” he pulled away from her slightly, wiping away her tears with a soft smile. “But we will be soon, okay? We’ll be together in just a few months, and then we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” And for a moment, it was like their parents weren’t in the room at all, because when he kissed her, everything else fell away, and it was just the two of them. And they very much did forget, too, because when she tilted her head and leaned into his body, he moaned softly against her lips. When she opened her mouth slightly to deepen their kiss, their tongues brushing, he slid his hands along her thighs where the hem of his flannel shirt was brushing her skin. Trailing his hand up underneath the fabric to caress her ribcage briefly before reaching around her back and pulling her down onto the bed with her on top of him.

Their mother was sputtering something, horrified beyond belief, but they didn’t hear her. Their father was too shell shocked to move at all.

They didn’t notice that, either, though, because Mabel had slotted her hips against Dipper’s, and he was kissing her neck, eliciting an appreciative moan from her lips. Pulling his hand back, he smacked her sharply on the ass and squeezed it roughly, and she moaned again, moving her pelvis against his. She reached down to his hips to slide his boxers off him, and he could move her panties to the side, or, better yet, rip them off with his _teeth_ , oooo yes that sounded nice, she’d let him rip up as many pairs of her panties as he wanted-

“Th- tha- that’s enough!” their father shouted angrily, his face red enough that Mabel would’ve laughed under different circumstances.

Under those specific circumstances, however, she blushed to her hairline, pulling herself away from Dipper, because, like, she had almost just sat on Dipper’s dick right there in front of her parents holy shiiiiiiiit oh god why she was never gonna live that down, good god. 

“Time- time to go,” Mrs. Pines said shakily, ushering Mabel into the bathroom to change clothes. She put her bra and jeans back on, but not her shirt. She put Dipper’s on instead. It smelled like him. She wanted to smell like him. She wanted to get a big thing of Dipper-smell, put it in an oxygen machine, and breathe nothing but that for the rest of her life. 

Particularly for the next eight months.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Dipper was wearing his own jeans again, which, of course, was an international tragedy, but at least he didn’t have a shirt, so there was that. He smiled when he saw her, and it widened when he saw she was still wearing his shirt.

“Can I keep it?” she asked, walking up to him. He smiled again and cupped her cheek. Her eyes were red from crying, she knew, and even though she was dreading what would come next, his skin on hers felt like the best thing in the world, and she never wanted the moment to end.

“Anything you want,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her softly, gently, reverently. Mabel didn’t know if it would be their last kiss or not, but it felt like it would. Despite that, though, his words brought her back to the things he’d moaned against her skin what felt like ages ago, but it really hadn’t been long at all, had it?

“Let’s go,” Mr. Pines said from the car, his voice gruff. Their mother pulled her away from Dipper by her arm, handed Mabel her coat, and she shrugged it on.

Dipper was putting on his, too, over bare skin.

“See you soon, Mabes,” he said quietly, doing his very best to give her an encouraging smile as she stepped through the hotel room door. 

“Yeah,” she responded over her shoulder, trying not to cry, their mother dragging her towards the car. When the door shut, and Mabel buckled herself in, it finally started to feel real. 

She was leaving him. Leaving Dipper. Still, though, her eyes were strangely dry when Mr. Pines started the car. They were dry, too, when they pulled out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t until Mabel looked back at Dipper through the rear window of the car that the tears began to fall. He waved at her, smiling again, much more shakily this time.

The car door was locked (her stupid parents had turned on the child locks; they knew her too well, it seemed), but she could still roll down the window, so she did. She stuck her head out, her seatbelt locking and digging into her neck. 

“I love you!” she shouted into the chill morning air.

“Mabel!” her mother exclaimed, but Mabel ignored her. 

“I love you, too!” Dipper yelled out after her.

She pulled her head back in and turned around in her seat to look at him. She wanted to look at him as long as possible. 

Well. At least there was that, then, right? She was crying harder, but hey. At least she got to hear him say it one more time.

Her father had rolled the window back up from the driver’s seat, but that was okay. Mabel had told Dipper what she’d needed to tell him, after all. 

“Don’t do that again,” Mr. Pines told her firmly. Mabel didn’t say anything to him, either. She just watched Dipper turn from a person to a figure, then a dot, and then, he was gone.

She watched the road for a moment, wondering what he was thinking just then, the tears flowing freely still.

Turning back around, she locked eyes with her mother in the rearview mirror.

She couldn’t see her own eyes, but if she could, she might’ve been a bit startled; teary, red, splotchy, and, in her opinion, tremendously unattractive, but _furious_. Furious in a way Mabel couldn’t remember ever being before.

It didn’t matter what her parents’ reasons were. They were separating her from her soulmate. From Dipper. They’d have to learn to live without their daughter, then. Mabel wanted nothing to do with her parents. She’d never forgive them. She closed her eyes, and a few more tears fell. 

She’d be with him again soon.

She had to be. 

She _had_ to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit that was an angsty one, huh?


	11. Shades of Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is hard. It’s harder when you’re apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Edward-or-Ford and Pacific_Ship for being awesome!

Chapter Ten: Shades of Blue 

_How can you leave me on my own? Desperate and destitute, these seconds feel like lifetimes without you._ \- New Years Day, My Dear

Mabel marked off February 1st in her calendar with an X in her pink gel pen with sparkles (was it really even a gel pen if there were no sparkles? Mabel’s opinion was firmly on the side of ‘no, absolutely not’).

Just two hundred and twelve days to go. She was counting the days, the hours, the seconds (okay, maybe just the days, she wasn’t _that_ good at math) till her parents could no longer keep her from her soulmate.

Because on August 31st, 2017, Mabel and her super awesome brother-boyfriend-soulmate combo would be turning eighteen, and there was nothing their parents could do to keep them apart once they turned eighteen. 

Their parents had insisted they were monitoring their texts, and that they weren’t allowed to speak under any circumstances.

Of course, Dipper had called Mabel from Grunkle Stan’s phone (turns out their parents had been total liars about that, too, and neither Grunkle Stan nor Grunkle Ford was in any way opposed to the whole soulmate situation) as soon as she got home, and they had both downloaded an untraceable messaging app where they could text, make phone calls, and send pictures. 

As one might imagine, they sent a great deal of pictures. 

And also videos.

They had a _lot_ of phone sex and sexy texting time, okay? They’d only gotten to have actual in-person sex twice (twice!), so they had to compensate somehow.

In any case, there was nothing they could do about it before they turned eighteen, so they had to come up with workarounds.

Not that it could prevent the withdrawals that were likely to hit if another month or two went by without them seeing each other, of course, but it sure made the days go by easier.

Mabel wasn’t sure what her parents were planning to do once they hit the three month mark and the first of the withdrawal symptoms started. It wouldn’t be so bad at first, according to what Dipper had told her regarding the massive amount of research he’d done. Probably just more of the usual depression she’d been having since she watched him disappear behind their car, and then sleepiness, then headaches and body aches, and then things would get progressively worse until eventually, they wouldn’t be able to function at all anymore. 

She didn’t know what their plans were for anything, really. She hadn’t spoken to them since they’d left Gravity Falls. She hadn’t said a word to them on the drive home; just put her headphones in and tuned out. She hadn’t said anything to them since, either. Her parents would try to get her to talk sometimes. Her mom did it more often. She had headphones on most of the time. She wasn’t even home very much.

She didn’t tell her parents when she was going to a friend’s house the way she had before. The first few times, her parents had called the parents of various friends until they found her. After awhile, though, they stopped.

She didn’t care if they were worried. They clearly weren’t worried enough about her and Dipper to let them be together, so Mabel didn’t see any reason to notify them or her comings and goings, despite their protests. Just because they wanted to cherry pick their concerns for her well being didn’t mean she had to let them.

Besides, she came home every few days, anyway. It was usually only for a night, of course. Then she’d go back out again. And yeah, that meant she was out on school nights, but her grades were good, and she always made it to class on time.

She wanted Dipper. She wanted to be in his arms again. She slept in the shirt she’d taken from him every night, and she hadn’t even washed it. It smelled more like her by that point than it did him, and not in a good way, either, but it made her feel a little better.

Plus, whenever she sent him pictures of herself wearing it (sometimes leaving enough of the buttons undone to where her cleavage was visible, other times leaving _all_ the buttons undone), he got all possessive and sexy, and the night usually ended with them panting each other’s names into the phone as quietly as they could.

Mabel stared at the cheery pink gel pen in her hand. She wasn’t feeling particularly pink. She hadn’t felt pink in just over a month, as it happened. Which was strange, because Mabel _always_ felt some shade of pink or purple.

But she could hardly remember what Dipper smelled like. She could hardly remember what he tasted like. What he felt like. If she couldn’t remember those things, she couldn’t make herself feel anything that wasn’t some shade of blue or other.

She hung the gel pen back up on her calendar, grabbed her overnight bag, and opened her bedroom door. 

She had her headphones in and was looking at her phone, pulling up a playlist, so she didn’t notice her mother there until she spoke.

“Honey, why don’t you spend the night here? I’ll make your favorite, if you want, and we can watch a movie, and…” tears welled up in her mother’s eyes. “Please, sweetheart, I can barely remember what your voice sounds like.”

 _Well_ , Mabel thought, _maybe you shouldn’t have decided to separate me from my soulmate, then_.

With that in mind, Mabel shot her mother a glare severe enough to make her flinch, and pushed past her, her overnight bag bumping against the hallway wall as she did.

Her friends were waiting for her in their car outside.

Mabel loaded her bag into the trunk and ignored her mother watching her behind the curtains in the living room.

Squeezing into the only empty seat in the car, she grinned at her friends.

Kristin, Eva, and Julie had been total lifesavers. They knew about Mabel’s soulbro situation, and they were, like, _super_ supportive.

“Your ‘rents still giving you shit?” Julie asked over her shoulder as she pulled out of the driveway. 

Mabel sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. “It’s not _shit_ , exactly, just…” she sighed again. “They just, y’know. They won’t let me see him.”

“Yeah, that still doesn’t make any sense to me at all,” Kristin said, adjusting her black lipstick in a compact mirror. “I get that having an incesty-soulmate isn’t, like, ‘socially acceptable’ or whatever,” she did air quotes with her fingers, the motion seeming a bit off due to the tube of eyeliner she had in between her pointer and index fingers that she was using in lieu of lipstick. “But if my parents can handle me being bi, yours should be able to handle your soulmate being your brother.”

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Eva cut in, turning around to address Kristin and Mabel. “I feel like, if it were me, and they were my kids, at first I’d be all freaked out, y’know? Cause like, they’re your kids, and then it turns out they’re soulmates and have to bang a whole bunch or they’ll get all eeeeuuughh, right? That’d mess anybody up, I think,” she paused for a moment before continuing. “But the thing is, though, I feel like after that initial freak out, I’d be kinda relieved, honestly.”

“Relieved? Really?” Julie was so surprised she forgot to use her turn signal when changing lanes. “Oops, my b,” she said, half to herself and half to the driver who had honked at her. Not that he could hear her, of course.

“Why relieved?” Mabel wondered.

“Well, if you’ve got a kid, right, and your kid finds their soulmate and it’s some stranger you don’t know, how do you know your kid’s soulmate isn’t gonna hurt them, or be a terrible person or something?” Eva reasoned. 

“That’s a good point,” Kristin agreed, shutting her compact mirror with a _snap_. “Soulmates aren’t exactly exempt from domestic abuse and shit.”

Eva nodded. “Exactly, so like, if it were me, I feel like I’d be cool with it once I got used to the idea, because I’d know my kids, right, so I’d know they’d never hurt each other.”

“That makes sense,” Julie said thoughtfully. 

“Mmm,” Mabel hummed. “I guess. I dunno. They’re weird about it.”

“Wait a sec,” Kristin interjected. “Didn’t you say your parents mentioned something about their parents being, like, religious fundies or something?”

Mabel nodded. “I think my grandmother on my mom’s side might be. Which would make sense, honestly, since my mom has been so militant about keeping the Dipster and me apart.”

“Okay, first of all,” Eva had a haughty air to her voice, and Mabel raised an eyebrow at her. “First of all,” she said again. “It’s ‘the Dipster and _I_ ’.”

The other three girls groaned, and Julie took a hand off the wheel to swat at her half heartedly.

“Ommigod, shut _up_!” Mabel giggled.

“Whatever, you love me and you know it,” Eva said with a grin. 

The others grumbled but did not object. 

“FYI, Mabes,” Kristin put a hand on her arm. “You should send him a selfie real quick.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” her friend nodded sagely. “You look hot, and it’s a damn crime he doesn’t get to see it in person, so you gotta help a brotha out!”

Mabel smiled and snapped a few dozen pictures of herself.

“Okay, which one’s best?” she asked, handing her phone to Kristin, who scrolled through and inspected each one. 

“No, no, no… meh, maybe… no, no… oooo, yes, love it, this one, totes send this one! Look at how much boobage you got in there, just fuckin’ _go for it_ , man!”

Mabel grinned and sent the picture to Dipper, along with a short little _miss you <3_ text. 

He responded with a _miss you too_ and then, two seconds after, _fuck you’re beautiful_. 

She giggled and showed Kristin his response. “Mhm, mhm, told ya.”

“Okay, so, confession time,” Julie said, pulling into her parents’ driveway.

“Spill it,” Eva immediately demanded.

“So you guys know Chad, right?”

“Unfortunately,” Kristin said with a grimace. The guy in question was a bit of a fuckboi.

“No, don’t say that!” Julie whined, getting out of the car. “He’s really sweet!”

”Of course he is,” Eva deadpanned.

“He is!” Julie insisted. “Anyway, so he asked me out.”

Mabel groaned. “Jules, tell me you didn’t.”

“I might have, yeah.”

“Ugh, _ew_ ,” Kristin said. 

“It’s not ew!”

“No, it’s totally ew,” Eva pointed out, and Mabel nodded her agreement. 

“If it helps,” Julie was saying sheepishly as she unlocked her front door, “he’s really, _really_ good.”

“Of _course_ he’s really good, numbnuts,” Kristin said with an eye roll. “He’s slept with half the school.”

“So have you!” Julie said defensively.

“Oooo, gotta point there,” Mabel snickered, pointing a glittery blue nail at her friend.

“Yeah, but I’m, like, discreet about it,” Kristin pointed out. “ _And_ I’ve actually dated people seriously, too!”

“Anyway,” Julie cut in. “So the consensus is ew, then, huh?”

“Definitely ew,” Mabel agreed. 

“Why are Chads always such Chads?” Kristin wondered aloud, opening the door to Julie’s bedroom. 

“They really are,” Eva laughed, plopping down on the bed. 

“Soooo…” Mabel trailed off. “Cards Against Humanity, anybody?”

* * *

Her friends always helped push the separation anxiety to the back of her mind, but with the other three girls asleep, there was nothing for Mabel to do but wallow.

Her phone lit up the dark room, illuminating the air mattress Mabel lay on.

Dipper had sent her a message. 

_I want you_.

Mabel unplugged her phone and scrambled up as quietly as she could, crossing the hall into the guest bedroom and locking the door behind her and turning on the light, typing out a quick _okay_ in response. 

She knew from experience that as long as she was quiet, nobody would hear her. 

_Now?_ he asked. 

_Now_.

And then he was calling her, and she was hastily stuffing her headphones in her ears and hitting the little phone icon on her screen.

“Hey,” he greeted, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey,” she said back. It was always such a _relief_ to hear him. “I miss you.”

“We’ve been texting all day,” he laughed.

“I know, but…”

“It’s not the same,” he agreed with the words she hadn’t said. 

“Yeah,” her voice was soft, and she heard him sigh on the other end of their call.

“Can I see you?” he asked after a moment. 

“Y- yeah, one sec.” They’d done this more times than she could count, but somehow, she was always nervous.

She stripped out of her shorts and unbuttoned his shirt to let it reveal her breasts, pulled her panties down a bit with her thumb and smiled into the camera.

She only had to take six or seven pictures before she had one she was satisfied with. Sending it over and promptly deleting them from her phone, she waited for it to arrive.

She knew when he got it, because he said, “Fucking hell, Mabel,” with a groan, and she could almost picture him stroking himself.

She’d only seen him do that a handful of times, when they’d gotten the chance to do this on the rare occasion she was at their parents’ for the night. She could have watched it for hours.

“You’re so perfect,” he sighed in her ear, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine he was there with her. He’d kiss her neck, maybe, and then squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples. Mimicking the things he was doing to her in her mind’s eye, she trailed a hand down her body and stroked herself lightly through her panties, listening to the way his breath was quickening. 

“I wanna see you, too, Dip,” she sighed into the phone.

A few seconds later, a picture came through of him holding himself, and when she saw him naked… well. She had seen him naked more times than she could count by that point, but it was always breathtaking each time. 

“Are you wet for me, Mabes?” he murmured in her ear.

She nodded, pulling her drenched panties off and kicking them to the side, before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

“Show me.”

She took another picture, this time of a part of herself she didn’t really understand why he wanted to see, but he liked it so she sent it to him anyway.

“I wish I had gotten to taste you,” he gasped. “I think about that a lot.”

“O- oh?” How embarrassing. She knew she was blushing. She could feel it. 

“Are you blushing right now?” Dipper asked. “I bet you are. You’re so cute when you blush.” She giggled a little, and he went on. “Will you touch yourself for me?”

“Mhm.” She brushed her fingers over her slit, dipping one inside slightly, just for a second, and gasping as she did so.

“Pinch your nipples, too, okay? I know you like that.” He did know, didn’t he? He knew all the things she liked. He seemed to know them intuitively. To be fair, though, he’d said she knew all the things _he_ liked, too.

Pinching her nipple and brushing a finger lightly over her clit, Mabel whimpered.

“Does that feel good?”

“Y- yes,” she gasped out. 

“I wish… mmmf,” he cut himself off with a groan. “I wish this was your hand instead of mine.”

Mabel squeezed her breast roughly, rubbing a finger back and forth over her clit. 

“Me too,” she whined. “God, Dip, I want… I want you inside me so bad, I-“

“I know, Mabes. I know. I’d give anything to be inside you right now.”

She rubbed herself a little faster, and her legs were going to give out, she could tell they were, so she allowed herself to collapse onto the cold of the hardwood floor.

“You okay?” Dipper asked when he heard her fall to the ground, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I just had to… ah!” she gasped. “I had to sit down.”

“Oh, okay,” he murmured, and it sounded like he went back to stroking himself.

“I need you.” She’d resorted to begging. She always did that when she was getting close.

“I know,” he groaned. “I need you, too.”

“Dipper, I- please, I need…” she rubbed herself faster, and her hips lifted off the floor an inch or so. 

“I know,” he said again. 

“I need you.” She couldn’t stop. It felt too good. “I need it, I want you so bad, please,” she begged. “Please give it to me, please Dip, god, I can’t-“

“Are you gonna cum for me, Mabes?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I’m gonna- fuck, I want your cum in me, _yes-_ “ her wrist hurt, but she kept going. She was so close, so _fucking close_ -

“Cum for me, I wanna hear you cum for me.”

“Dipper, ah, oh fuck, Dipper, I’m gonna-“ her body spasmed, and she fell limp. 

A few seconds later, he followed her with a grunt. 

It had felt so good, and Mabel felt so content for a split second, because she’d forgotten that Dipper wasn’t there with her. 

The tears started to fall, and she began to sniffle. It usually ended that way. She couldn’t help it. 

“Mabel,” he said with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped.

“No, no,” he assured her. “I just… I wish I could be there with you.”

“I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together,” she cried softly. 

“I know,” he sighed again. “But we’ll be together soon, okay? I’ve got an idea.”

“An idea?” What kind of idea, she wondered. 

“Yeah, but it’s a surprise, so until I’ve got everything worked out, just be patient for me, okay?” 

“Okay,” she sniffed. 

“I love you,” he told her softly.

“I love you, too.”

After a few seconds, he said, “and on that note, I need to clean this jizz off my stomach before it drips all over my bed.”

She giggled. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’ll text me tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, _doi_ , when don’t I?” She sniffed again. It was hard to force the silliness that usually felt natural when she felt so blargh.

“Good point,” he chuckled. “Night, then. Love you,” he said again. 

“Love you, too.”

After they hung up, it took several minutes for Mabel’s body to stop tingling from her orgasm, and then several more minutes before she could stop the tears and go back to bed. 

Being without him was tougher than she’d imagined. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, my male readers get an inside look into girl banter. And it’s real, too, because these girls are based off of real friends I’ve had growing up, and the conversation they have is not unlike ones I’ve had with them, so it’s legit, mmkay?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, whatcha think? I wanna hear all your thoughts! Do you hate it? Love it? Interested in reading more? I’m gonna write more regardless ‘cause I can’t get it out of my head but I’m interested in hearing your thoughts anyway.


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